Ashes to Ashes
by The Wacky Wannabe Writer
Summary: What if the wonderfully coincidental meeting at the Dragon Jasmine never happened? Alone, forced to assume the role of the faceless Lee in the occupied Ba Sing Se, Zuko struggles to protect his newfound allies against the ruthless Fire Nation.
1. Chapter 1

Hiii all!

I know this is weird, coming from me, but what can I say? I had a little idea pop into my head and not leave me alone. Anyways, I hope you like this! And I'm not going to say 'please be nice', because in all honesty I want you to critique the hell out of it xD

Disclaimer: Everything you see her belongs to people that aren't me. Sad, huh?

* * *

_Nice._

_How I wish I did Nice._

He lay on the futon with his arms crossed behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. It was late, he knew, and he should get some sleep, and quick, but Zuko's mind was wide awake, racing.

_Nice._

What a strange word. He mouthed it aloud, felt his tongue touch the roof of his mouth, his teeth lightly click, and bottom lip stretch. It had never been associated with him before. But... a night stroll, a pleasant (if awkward) dinner, and the fountain...

It was Nice.

Zuko rolled over, staring at the wall of his tiny bedroom. True, his own room at the Fire Nation Palace was twenty times the size of this, monstrously larger than the apartment, but there was a sort of humble pleasure in knowing they lived here with money they earned, not money that was excessively taxed from the labour of a nation.

Zuko sighed. He closed his eyes, trying to summon sleep within himself, but failed. A few minutes later, he opened them again, and returned to lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

_But where, really was the harm? It was just a simple date. She's a nice girl._

_Argh, that word again!_

Zuko sat up, raking his fingers through the short locks of his hair. He remembered how his Uncle had dragged a wet comb through it, forcing the unruly tresses to flatten, and how easily Jin had ruffled it up again. She liked it that way, apparently...

_Agni, why can't I get her out of my head?_ Zuko groaned, leaning his head against a clenched fist. _What's wrong with me? I've never been like... This, before!_

_But then again, I've never met anyone like her before. Never been... Kissed._ His cheeks flushed hotly in the dark at the memory of their kiss. Their chaste, closed-lipped kiss. And then he left, with barely a word of explanation. He had heard her sigh, saw her shoulders slump. He could picture clearly how her face would have sunken in disappointment.

_I... Hurt her._ He closed his eyes, letting out a long breath. _I made her happy, yes, and then I hurt her. _

_Like Song. _He shook his head. That was a bad memory. Eating her food, listening to her speak, being shown her scar... And then taking their ostrich-horse.

_Maybe it's just girls._ Zuko mused. He had only had close contact with very few in his lifetime. Azula, the water tribe girl, Jun, Song, and now Jin.

_But I like her. She was interesting to talk to. And she's so... Pretty._ Again, his cheeks flushed hotly in the dark.

_Nice._

_Pretty._

_What's wrong with me?_ Zuko moaned, and flopped back down, returning his amber gaze to the ceiling. _How can these words even be in my vocabulary! I'm Prince Zuko! Heir to the throne of the Fire Nation! Nice and Pretty are not to be associated with me!_

_But... not to her._ Zuko sighed. _Not to her. To her, I'm just Lee. Lee who was in the circus and has come, a refugee to Ba Sing Se, for a better life, like thousands and thousands of others. _

_Lee is a nobody._

Zuko closed his eyes.

_And Prince Zuko is starting to disappear..._

_No!_ He buried his face in his pillow, biting back a scream. Although Iroh was trying, it was a doomed attempt. Lee was a momentary disguise. A facade. A mask for Prince Zuko, who was waiting, lurking in the wings.

_Perhaps that is what is doomed._ Zuko's good eye started to sting. _My throne. My honour, my nation. My birthright._

_No. It wasn't._ Zuko breathed heavily into the pillow. _It was Lu Ten. My cousin. And Uncle Iroh. Their birthright. It was stripped of them, and given to my father and I. Uncle Iroh is the rightful Firelord, not my father._

_The banished prince, and the refugee._

_Maybe they're not so different._

* * *

"Did you sleep well, nephew?"

"Not really." Zuko mumbled as he took a heavy seat next to the low wooden table. A steaming mug of tea was placed before him, as was a bowl of oatmeal. "I... Had a lot on my mind."

"Is this about Jin?" Iroh asked with a raised eyebrow over his porcelain mug. Zuko froze, his pallid cheeks turning the slightest bit pinker.

"You... Remember her name?" He shifted uncomfortably, finding the textured grey surface of his breakfast very interesting.

"Of course I did." Iroh smiled. "You said the date was nice, but no more, my nephew. What is it that plagues your mind?"

"She doesn't like _me."_ Zuko muttered. "She only likes Lee."

"... Oh." Iroh sighed. "I understand your quandary."

"I like her Iroh." Zuko said plaintively. "She's nice. And pretty." There were those words again, jarring on his tongue. "But... It's too tense. I-I feel as though I can't be myself."

"Zuko." Iroh was saddened. "Do you honestly think that you were being yourself when you were Prince Zuko? You often admitted to me how you had to censor your own words, try and hold back your outbursts, and watch every little movement you made around your father. Tell me nephew, is that being yourself?"

"No." Zuko's voice was very small as he stirred the oatmeal. "But..."

"I know you are confused. You have reached a fork in your life, and you are unsure of which way to turn. You want to do what is right, but at the same time, you do not want to further risk your honour."

"They're the same thing." Zuko argued, but he sounded unsure.

"Are they?" Iroh raised an eyebrow. Zuko continued to look away. "Jin will return to the tea shop, like she always does. It is up to you what you will say to her."

"I know, Uncle." Zuko took a tentative nibble of his spoonful of oatmeal. "... I don't know what I'm going to say to her."

"Do what makes _you_ happy, my nephew." Iroh said gently. "Not what would make Prince Zuko happy, make your father or the Fire Nation happy. Do what makes you happy."

Zuko nodded wordlessly.

* * *

Sure enough, she was there. Her long dark hair in two braids down her torso, in the same green robe with the soft yellow trimming, drawn in tightly around her waist, almond-shaped eyes, a gentle leafy-green, focused intently on her steaming mug of tea.

He would approach her first, he decided. That way, he wouldn't be caught by surprise, as he was last time. He was sure that his uncle wouldn't have an issue with him shirking his duties for a few moments.

"Did you want a refill?" Jin looked up in surprise to see Zuko standing with a tray, bearing another mug and a steaming pot of tea.

"O-Oh!" She blinked, and ducked her head a little. "Yes please..." Wordlessly, Zuko took a seat with her, topping up her tea and pouring one for himself.

"I enjoyed last night." He said after a moment of silence, bringing the mug of tea to his lips.

"So did I." Jin said earnestly. "I've taken a couple of other boys' to the Fire Fountain before," Zuko's hand tightened on his cup, the tea steaming violently. "But they all laughed at me and say I was stupid..."

"You're not stupid." Zuko set down his cup. He reached across the table, taking her wrist. "You see the beauty in everyday things. That's a rare gift, Jin." She smiled.

"Why did you leave last night?" The question burst out of her impatiently, eyes raising slightly, settling around his shoulder. "I-I don't understand..."

"It's complicated." Zuko muttered, looking down. "Let's just say... I have a chequered past. I'm... It's hard, to let others in."

"I don't mind." Jin said, her voice soft. "Lee, I like you." Zuko flinched a little at the name, but thankfully, because her eyes weren't on his face, Jin didn't notice. "I... Want to see you again."

"... I want to see you again too." And Zuko was being honest. "But...I have a lot going on right now. In here." He let go of her arm, and tapped at his head. "I'm sorry..."

"... It's okay." But she was upset, Zuko could tell easily. She drained the final drops of her tea, and reached inside her robe. "By the way, I have something for you..."

"You do?" Guilt flooded Zuko's insides. "You didn't have to..."

"I know." She said. "But I wanted to." She set the object down on the table between them. It was a small jar, filled with a creamy-looking paste.

"... What is it?" Zuko picked up the jar, and unscrewed the top, cautiously sniffing its' contents.

"My aunt and uncle run an apothecary." Jin explained. "It's a medicine, made from herbs. It helps to soften and pale scarred skin." Zuko froze, and his hand tightened around the jar. "I-I'm sorry, I thought-"

"Thank you, Jin." His tone was as warm as melted butter. The Earth Kingdom girl lifted her head, finally looking Zuko full in the face. He was smiling. "I appreciate this gift. I wish I had one for you."

"Like a free tea coupon?" She giggled, earning a blush from the boy. "Lee, what you did last night was a gift in itself. You gave me a night of happiness. It's been so long..." She trailed off, and her eyes lowered again. Zuko set down the jar, and took one of her hands in both of his, gently squeezing the skin.

"I want you to keep coming here." Zuko said, sounding a little nervous, if nothing else.

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Jin breathed. "Your uncle makes heavenly tea." Another joke. Zuko smiled. "I... Have to go." She pushed her chair back, and stood up, head bowed. "I'll see you around, Lee." She smiled hopefully.

"See you around Jin." He gathered the used tea things on the tray. As he bent down, Jin, her heart pounding, darted in to kiss Zuko lightly on the cheek, her lips grazing his scar.

Zuko gasped and stood up, but by the time he straightened himself and turned around, she had disappeared into the bustling street.

* * *

Awww, cuteness!

The next chapter's going to take place a little ahead of time, so I guess you can think on this as a prologue of sorts.

Read and rate!


	2. Chapter 2

Hey again!

Yeah, I know, this was a quick update! :O I know it's still prety short, as far as chapters go, but it was either cut it here, or add on the next scene, making it a _lot_ longer, and also taking more time... So this way, everyone wins! I guess...

Disclaimer: I own nothing you see her. BAWWWWWWW

* * *

"You should go to bed, nephew."

"In a minute." The boy replied distractedly, still trailing his fingers absentmindedly up and down his green trousers.

He hated wearing green.

Iroh sighed deeply, crossing the small living space to where Zuko crouched on the windowsill, his head bowed. Without a word, the elderly man leaned against the wood, his arms crossed, casting a pensive gaze across the dirty small courtyard.

"What is it that's on your mind, my young Prince?" Iroh asked presently, earning a scowl from the teen.

"Don't call me that." Zuko muttered, drawing his knees closer to his chest. "I'm not..."

"... All right." Iroh didn't press the subject. "I was wondering if-"

"It's just so _stupid!"_ Iroh jumped as Zuko lashed out, anger resonating through his tone. "And un_fair."_

"My brother has never been fair." Iroh noted, his eyes seemingly unfocused. "He is being the Fire Lord. Fairness and that title do not exactly go hand in hand."

"Yes, but why not?" Zuko said bitterly. "I mean... Look at the Earth King. He's... Well, he's certainly not violent..."

"Do you remember what I said about the various four elements?" Iroh said, sounding thoughtful. "How they were interlinked between the people of the respective nations?"

"Yeah..." Zuko let one leg dangle over the side of the window, his bare foot cold in the night air.

"It also corresponds to the governing of a nation. Why do you think the Fire Lord is a vicious and powerful character? If he ruled like a waterbender, he would be overthrown in an instant. Their belief in community isn't in our doctrine."

"So I would have been useless as a Fire Lord." Zuko muttered. "And Azula is perfect for the job. Great."

"I said 'is', not 'must be'." Iroh corrected his young nephew. "The Fire Lords before Sozin were largely peace-loving. It was greed that poisoned them."

"A drive for power and success isn't a poison!" Zuko exclaimed.

"You sound like your father." Iroh said regretfully. "This so-called drive for power and success is costing more lives and freedom than the planet hass ever seen before."

"I know." Zuko mumbled. "I've seen the cost. The human cost. Families being torn about, villages razed, communities massacred... I don't know how my father sleeps at night."

"In a very comfortable bed." Iroh cast an eye to his thin futon in the next room, shaking his head. "He hasn't seen what you and I have seen. Indeed, I can only think of a very few times he has ever left the Fire Nation at all."

"I couldn't do it." Zuko muttered. "The war... I couldn't. After seeing all of these people get hurt, what they're reduced to... I'd call it off."

"And that is why Ozai will give his throne to Azula." Iroh said gravelly. "Unless the Avatar defeats him."

"I don't think Aang would exactly let me have the throne." He sighed. "I don't think the Fire Nation would let me have the throne. I'm a traitor, remember? An enemy of the state. No one would want a failure like me."

"Zuko, you are not a failure." Iroh said firmly. "How many times must I tell you this? You have been punished, far too severely, for one childish outburst."

"But-"

"What Ozai did was nothing short of sadistic." Iroh was being very blunt. "And capturing the Avatar? Your ancestors all tried, and failed, to find him."

"But that's because he was hidden, frozen in a block of ice." Zuko muttered. "If he wasn't..."

"Azula is trying to capture him to, so I hear." Iroh noted. "She too, has yet to succeed. You may think yourself weak, for not being able to capture a twelve year old boy, but I think you human, for not being able to overcome the most powerful being on the planet, the bridge between the two worlds."

"... Thanks, Uncle." Zuko have a small smile, despite himself. Iroh always knew how to put things in perspective.

"You're welcome." Iroh beamed. "And whether you are the Prince, Zuko, or Lee, you are still my nephew. I even-"

"No, Uncle." Zuko gritted his teeth. "I know what you are going to say. And don't."

"... All right." Iroh murmured, eyes downcast.

"... Have you been to his grave yet?" Zuko's voice broke the silence a few minutes later. "It... Was his birthday recently, wasn't it?"

"... Yes. It was." Iroh's head was bowed. "I-I went..." Zuko straightened up, watching his uncle. "The headstone's gone, of course, the Earth Kingdom soldiers would have destroyed it, but the grounds' untouched."

"... I'm sorry Uncle." Zuko slowly got down from the windowsill, resting a hand on the elderly mans' shoulder. "You shouldn't have had to go through that. It... It never should have happened."

"... I know." Iroh's voice was shaking, and one hand grasped at Zuko's tightly, clinging to the comfort.

"I don't remember much of Lu Ten." Zuko admitted, feeling the mans' hand and shoulder tense. "But... He was nice. And strong. He would have made a good Fire Lord. You would have too."

"I..." Iroh swallowed, and tried a different tack. "Sometimes I wonder... What would have happened, if Lu Ten had lived. If my father wouldn't have had revoked my birthright. I wouldn't be this man here today."

"No." Zuko said softly. "You would be more like my father. More like Azulon."

"And that I could not bear." Iroh breathed. "The way Ozai has treated you, and the way my father annulled what should have been mine..." He shook his head. "A fathers' love becomes worthless."

"What..." Zuko swallowed. "What... Do you know, or remember, about Azulon's death?"

"Eh?" Iroh turned to look at the boy. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." Zuko licked his lips. "He died in the night, right? I-I mean, he was old, but he was still so healthy..."

"He died in his sleep." Iroh said softly. "They said his heart just stopped beating. That happens in elderly men, even at my age sometimes."

"O-Oh..." Something unpleasant swirled in the pit of Zuko's stomach. "But... The whole choosing my father to be the next Fire Lord... Didn't you think it... strange?"

"... No." Iroh shook his head. "I mean, with no children myself, my bloodline had ended. My brother, on the other hand, had you and Azula. It just... It hurt, to learn he thought that little of me."

"I don't think it was him." Zuko ventured bravely. Iroh became very still. "I know you don't know anything that happened, you were still in Ba Sing Se, and everything you eventually learned was from my father, and-"

"Zuko, please, just tell me what you know." Iroh said very quietly, looking down at the wooden windowsill, which he now gripped tightly in two hands.

"The day before he died... I heard them talking." Zuko started to say, his palms sweating. "I should have told you this sooner... But I was too scared, a-and then when we were out of the Fire Nation, I was so caught up with pursuing the Avatar, I-"

"Please, just tell me what you heard Ozai and my father say." Iroh's voice was monotonous, but Zuko could hear how tense he was.

"This was the day before Azulon died." Zuko swallowed. "It was Azula. She was the one who dragged me behind the curtain to listen to my father and grandfather talk privately. M-my father... He said that, because Lu Ten died, and your bloodline had stopped, you should be passed over and the throne given to him."

"_Agni."_ Iroh breathed to himself, sounding pained.

"I ran out." Zuko continued. "I couldn't hear anymore, but Azula sure did. It turns out that Azulon was really really angry at what my father suggested. He said that he should learn the pain of losing a first-born son for his disobedience." He looked over at Iroh, but the elderly man said nothing, staring fixedly at the wooden sill. "My mother heard Azula telling me... She dragged her off and in the morning, Grandfather was dead, and my mother was gone..." Zuko blinked rapidly. "Putting two and two together isn't hard."

"And... You are sure of this?" Iroh said slowly, in disbelief. Zuko nodded, then realised his uncle wasn't looking at him.

"Yes." He clarified. His own hands shaking. "I-I'm sorry Uncle..."

"Don't be sorry." Iroh shook his head. "Yours and Azula's eavesdropping more than likely saved your life."

"But why would he say that." Zuko muttered. "See? I told you I was a failure. If I had been worth something, if I had been more like Azula-"

"Zuko, please don't say that." Iroh sounded aged, much older than he really was. "You need to be proud of who you are. What you have done, what you have accomplished..."

"All the same... If I could get him, I would." He muttered savagely. Iroh sighed.

"I am going to bed." He straightened his back, and turned, still not looking at Zuko. "Thank you for revealing that Zuko. It has cleared many demons from my mind – and brought forth several new ones."

"He's a horrible person." Zuko growled.

"Who?"

"My father, who else." He clenched his hands into fists. "He... He doesn't care, does he? About anyone but himself. Himself and his throne."

"... Power corrupts." Iroh said simply. "But I will not say that growing up with him was a very pleasant experience."

"... I feel sorry for Azula." Zuko's shoulders' slumped. "She'll go too far one day. She'll cross him." He gently touched his scar. "She'll finally learn what it's like to lose your honour."

"Or she'll kill him." Zuko whirled around, eyes wide. "You haven't suspected the possibility?"

"She respects him too much." Zuko said disbelievingly. "You might be an old fool, and I a failure in her eyes, but she thinks really highly of Dad. She wouldn't..."

"She would, to be Fire Lord." Iroh stared past Zuko, into the night sky. "When she grows older, and even more deceptive and cunning, her patience will shrink. Do you think she would wait for Ozai to grow old and die?"

"... I don't know." Zuko mumbled. "I... Don't want to think about that."

"You love your father?"

"I said, I don't know." He crossed his arms. "I thought you were going to bed."

"... All right." Iroh heaved a sigh, and started making his way to his small bedroom. "But Zuko," He paused in the doorway. "I don't like the truth, any more than you do. Azula is your sister, and Ozai your father. To think either of them capable of bloodshed against the other is near impossible to comprehend. But I am just warning, that the possibility does exist."

"I-I know Uncle..." Zuko nodded. "Night."

"... Good night my nephew." And with a slight bow, Iroh slid the door shut.

"You're wrong." Zuko whispered fiercely to the night air. "You're wrong, Uncle. Azula will not follow my father. I will. I'm going to the find the Avatar. I'm going to bring him to father in chains. And Azula, not I, will be the one hanging her head in shame from failure."

It was nonsense, really. How as he even going to _find_ Aang, let alone capture and retain him? It was sinking to desperation, these thoughts he held on to, of finding him and returning to his kingdom enthroned in glory. Despite his bitter resentment towards the tyranny and the violence of the war the Fire Nation was inflicting, he still wanted, needed, _longed_, to be the Prince, and later, the Fire Lord.

_Fire Lord... _

_Like Sozin. Azulon, Father..._

Sozin, who began the war against the other nations, wiping out an entire race. Azulon, who cruelly ordered his youngest son to murder his own first-born for suggesting something which was actually deadly practical. Ozai, who essentially tortured and banished a thirteen-year-old boy for arguing against an act of intense injustice.

_They're horrible people..._

Zuko bowed his head, fingertips at his temples. _They've all committed atrocities, both against the war, and their own children, their own flesh and blood and bone._

_I'm not like that. I'm... I'm sure I'm not. Sure, I've done some bad things, but I've done good too! And the bad is nowhere near as bad as what Azula has done. She's a monster._

_Ugh. I am weak._ Zuko started to pace the floor distractedly, his thoughts whirling. _I care about the people of the Earth Kingdom. To an extent, I do. The innocent lives that have been uprooted... It's not right. Nothing can ever justify it being right. How is this war supposed to be for the good of the world when it's causing so much pain?_

_Maybe if I was more like Azula, I would be loved by my father. Maybe? Of course he would. If he was capable of love. I've never seen him smile. Oh, maybe once or twice when Azula's prodigal nature shone through, but that was always a smirk of self-satisfaction. A 'look at what I created' sort of pride. I never got that..._

_But I don't want to be like Azula!_ Zuko gritted his teeth, bowing his head. _I don't want to be the cold, heartless monster she is. She doesn't give a damn for anyone, not even her closest friends. She might be strong, but she's so empty. All she cares about is way and killing and victory and the Fire Nation._

_How in the name of Agni is this ever going to work!_ He thought he was going to rip his hair out. _To truly redeem myself in my fathers' eyes, I have to be like him, be like Azula. I could have done that earlier, when I was the spoilt, self-obsessed prince who ruled his ship with an iron fist. But I'm not that person. All these weeks and weeks on the run... They've changed me, more than those three years of exile ever did. Heh. I really do have a heart._

_I wish there was an answer. I wish there was some way I could show father that my 'weaknesses', my 'faults' are what's made me strong. My struggles are what's made me who I am, and that's a good thing!_

_But he would never see that._ Zuko sunk to his knees. _He'll never see that. Even if I caught the Avatar... Azula would still mock me relentlessly, his Generals would still never look me in the eye, I would still have to be on a constant watch with myself._

_It's hopeless. Maybe I should give up. Give up my dream like Uncle has. He's accepted that the Fire Nation is lost to us. But he's found his dream, in this tea shop debacle. What's my hobby? How do I fill my time? _

_What's my... Purpose?_

_If I'm to let Prince Zuko die, then what do I do? Serve tea for the rest of my life? What is the life of Lee? I could join the army, I guess. If anything else, I could go out in a haze of glory._

_The son of the Fire Lord, joining the rank-and-file like an illiterate refugee. I almost wish that would happen, and everyone found it. If nothing else, it would embarrass my father to no end._

_I'm thinking too much about this. _Zuko shook his head. _This is all too much to take in at once. I mean, what am I saying? Throw away my honour? Become some sort of grubby Earth Kingdom peasant? I'm still young, and so is the Avatar. I only have until the Comet before he fades into irrelevance. I should be pro-active, searching relentlessly for him night and day, doing everything I can to track him down and defeat him._

_Because that's worked so well the previous months._ Zuko made a face. _And besides, I would have to tear Uncle away from his precious shop. Now his lifelong passion has become his career, he's happier than he's been in years. And he needs that. After everything he's been through, he needs that. Losing his son, the Fire Nation throne, and then being banished, labelled a traitor and enemy of the Fire Nation..._

_That last part is my fault._ Zuko swallowed in realisation. _Me and my desperation to capture the Avatar. If it wasn't for me, he would be the esteemed Dragon of the West still. He's made so many sacrifices for me..._

_The least I can do is be happy for him._ Zuko rested on the balls of his feet, hands clenched, gazed fixed on the floorboards. _I can be a tea-boy for a little while longer if it keeps him happy, can't I?_

_It's not like I have many other options._ His shoulders were slumped. _Lee has a clean slate. A faceless boy in the largest city in the world. Prince Zuko is being pursued by both the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom, facing trial and more than likely execution. _

_Logic is screaming at me right now..._

_But it's not black and white like that!_ Zuko felt like screaming and kicking something. _There's so many shades of grey you can't even see any black and white anymore. I can't give up on something I fought so hard, so long for. I won't give up. _

_I need sleep._ Zuko stood up, padding across the living space in his bare feet. He pressed his palms on the sill, peering over the maze of tiled and thatched roofs to get a glimpse of at least part of the horizon. The inky black that smothered the sky was turning a lighter shade of grey on the eastern side, meaning that dawn was a couple of hours away, at the most. Shoulders slumping in a long sigh, he slipped into his own room, barely the size of a closet, sliding the door shut behind him. He stripped out of his clothing, sliding in between his sheets in shorts, and pulled the blankets up to his chin.

Closing his eyes, Zuko thought about his bed at the palace. The mattress, incredibly soft, was so wide he could roll all about on it if he wanted to. The sheets were of a deep crimson silk, and his feather-stuffed pillows were absolute heaven to rest ones head on. He opened his eyes again, wriggling a little under the blankets. The futon was far from thick, and indeed he swore he felt the ground in a few places. Although clean, his sheets were thin and coarse, and the blankets were of little better quality. And his pillow was ineffectually thin.

_I know what I would prefer right now. _Zuko thought dryly, closing his eyes again. Although, he remembered as a child, many sleepless nights in the monstrous bed in his massive chamber.

_I was always so uneasy, unsettled. Mother tried to dismiss it, but she wasn't fooling anyone. Why didn't I have any friends? Because I was too shy to make them, too scared they would hate me. Why did I avoid my father? Because every time I saw him, another subtle insult was thrown my way, outlining my faults. Why did Azula torment me? Because I was so meek and timid, I made it so damn easy for her._

_Agni, when was the last time I was __**happy**__? _Zuko screwed up his face. _With Mother, of course. Feeding the turtle-ducks... Having her read to me at night... sharing letters from Uncle together... Just stupid little things I took for granted. I'd do anything to have them now._

_This isn't helping._ Zuko rolled over onto his side, trying to steady his breathing. _I need to sleep. Who knows what tomorrow will bring. I have to be prepared, and I'm not going to be able to do that if I'm exhausted. _

_Tomorrow, Lee has to spend the day serving tea. And Jin will be there again._ His cheeks coloured slightly. _She said she wanted to take a walk with me after work... I said I would think about it... Oh Agni, I haven't even considered that!_

Zuko buried his face in the pillow and groaned.

_I'll say yes. Simple. Now sleep._

_But..._

_No, sleep!_

He rolled over onto his back, exasperated. _I just need to close my eyes, and breathe deeply. Imagine myself somewhere and think only on that. _He closed his eyes, and began to breathe deeply. Inhale through the nose, exhale out the mouth. Behind his eyes, visions of peaceful, shady glades and the soft trickle of running waters, the occasional bird twittering and flitting about, danced.

* * *

What is it about mental and emotional turmoil that is so fun to probe?

Or maybe Im just weird. Who knows?

READ AND RATE PLZ


	3. Chapter 3

Wow! Another pretty-quick update!

I am amazing myself, haha.

Disclaimer: I own nothing at all here. BAWWW

* * *

"You don't look well."

Zuko jumped, the empty tea mugs on his tray clattering loudly. He whirled around to find Jin standing sheepishly in front of him, scratching the back of her head. "Sorry..."

"No, It's okay." He set down the cluttered tray, starting to re-stack the china cups. "I... My mind wasn't exactly here."

"I can tell." Jin picked up a few of the cups herself, helping the boy. "Lee, you look exhausted."

"It's... Been a long day." He said distractedly, picking the tray up again. "I'll be fine."

"Did you still want to go when you finished?" Jin said hopefully, her hands winding in the green fabric of her dress.

"I... I don't know." Zuko admitted. "I just... have a lot on my mind right now. I don't think I would be very good company."

"Well, I'm a good listener." Jin's voice was almost pleading. "But... It's okay." She murmured, disappointment painfully obvious in her voice.

"... Well, I suppose." Zuko eventually relented. "I just don't want wanna put anything on you."

"You won't!" She beamed, eyes lighting up. "I-I mean... I won't... And I won't ask anything... You don't even have to say anything, I'll..." She shook her head, blushing. "I'll come back later, 'kay?" She gave a light bow, and then ran out of the tea shop, clearly embarrassed with herself.

"She really does like you." Zuko jumped again, and once more, the teacups fell all about the tray.

"_Uncle!"_ He fumed, slamming the tray down. "Please!"

"She's a nice girl, Lee." Iroh noted. "There is nothing wrong with being happy."

"... I know." Zuko straightened the last of the cups and picked up the tray, his knuckles white. "I like her too. It's just... Let's just say I haven't had much experience with girls." He walked silently past his uncle, and into the kitchen. He swept the cups into the basin of warm water, and rolling up his sleeves, wiped at the cups with a damp rag, before stacking them and leaving them to dry.

_Ugh, this is servants work._ He thought derisively._ Someone like me shouldn't be reduced to working like a serf._

_I sound like a spoilt brat._ Zuko's hands still in the water. _As though I haven't been through worse. Being on the run for weeks, trudging through the countryside alone without food and water is worse than this. Here, I have a roof over my head, I'm well-fed and comfortable enough. I'm safe, that Jet kid is gone..._

_But I'm not happy. I still have this... Hole inside of me. I know things should be better than this... But how..._

"Do you want to take a break, nephew?" Iroh said kindly as he entered the back room.

"Huh?" Zuko blinked. "Oh. No, I'm fine." He kept his eyes trained on the water, shaking his head. Carefully, he stacked the last of the cups on the wooden drying rack, and picked up a small towel. "I just need to keep my mind here and focused."

"I don't think that-"

"Look, don't you have tea to serve?" Zuko snapped, hands tight around the fragile cup he held. Iroh paused, and sighed deeply, before walking out of the small back room and into the front of the shop. The former Prince was still for a few moments before flattening his palm, wincing as he stared at the cracked cup.

* * *

She was there all right.

"Hey." Zuko forced a weak smile as he hung up his apron, entering the front room of the little tea shop. "You... You look really nice." He said, his tone genuine. She'd pulled up her hair in a ponytail once more, and this time a delicate pink flower was tucked behind her ear.

"... Thank you." She said demurely, a blush creeping across her cheeks. "You look..."

"Just as frazzled as I was this morning?" Zuko raked his fingers through his hair, which was already standing on end. "Sorry... I just don't think I'll be all that pleasant company..."

"That's all right." Jin said quickly. "I'm just happy you decided to see me, is all." She walked beside Zuko as they left the shop, the male giving his uncle a quick wave before departing.

"I said I would." Zuko said. "A-And I mean, I wanted to as well." He added quickly, looking away. "I did. Seriously."

"I know that." Jin smiled. "Lee, what is wrong? What is it that you're not telling me?"

"Like I said, it's complicated." He muttered, lowering his gaze. "I-I'm sorry, but... I just can't tell you... Some things... They're just too dark. You'd hate me if you knew."

"I wouldn't." Jin protested, laying a hand on Zuko's shoulder. "You can tell me, Lee-"

"I can't!" Zuko shrugged himself away. It wasn't her nagging that got to him, it was that Agni-damned name! _I'm not Lee! _She shrunk away, hurt. "I... I'm sorry." He sighed, rubbing at his eyes. "I am. I've just... I've done things in my past that I'm _really_ not proud of."

"I understand that." Jin said gently. "I think everyone has their own inner demons, Lee. You're no different."

"They are. I am." Zuko said roughly, still not looking the girl in the eye. "I'm sorry Jin, I don't wanna seem like I'm trying to push you away-"

"Really?"

"I really like you." Zuko sighed. "I do."

"And I like you too, Lee." She grabbed at his closest hand on impulse. "Why else would I show up at the tea shop you work in every day?" She sighed. "Look, you don't wanna let me in. That's okay. I'm not gonna pretend that I understand why, but you need your privacy. Everyone has secrets, things they hide from people."

"Do you?" Zuko looked over at Jin, the girl loosening her grip on his hand. "What's your big secret then?"

"All right, you caught me." She murmured. "I don't exactly have any secrets. But if I did, I would tell you, I promise."

"Yeah, right." Zuko muttered. "That's easy to say."

"Fine." She released his hand. "Do you want me to go?"

"No!" Zuko grabbed her sleeve. "I don't. I'm sorry... It's just..."

"It's complicated?" She stood a foot apart from him, a small smile on his face. "You're really fit the whole dark mysterious archetype, don't you?" She took a small step towards him their eyes locked. "Lee..." His breath hitched in his throat as she touched the side of his face. "You-"

"Hey, watch it!" Zuko cried out as the pair were roughly knocked. Jin gasped as she tumbled to the dirty cobblestones, painfully scraping her palms. The man who had pushed past them paused, and turned, raising one eyebrow. Zuko immediately bent down to pick the girl up, Jin winded from her fall.

"Oh, sorry." He smirked, and Zuko realised it was a boy, about their age. "Didn't mean to hurt your girlfriend." Jin winced, waiting for the defensive cry of 'She's not my girlfriend!', but instead, Zuko only threw the beefy teen a poisonous glare, before he was swallowed up in the crowded mass of the busy street.

"Are you okay?" He asked in concern, grabbing her wrists and examining her palms.

"I'm fine." Jin smiled, something in her chest fluttering. "Just a scrape..."

"Come on." He grabbed her sleeve, weaving his way through the crowd. "Best to get the dirt out as soon as you can, or it'll get infected."

"I'm fine, seriously." Jin protested. They turned down a side alley, as Zuko headed to the only source of free water in the nearby area. "You don't have to... Worry..." She blinked as they stood in the small courtyard of the Fire Fountain. "What..."

"Come here." She followed him to the edge. "Sit." She obeyed, watching as Zuko extracted a handkerchief from inside his sleeve, which he dipped in the water.

"I'm honestly fine." She repeated, although, she had to admit, her palms stung painfully. "It was just a push, he didn't mean it."

"I know it was probably an accident." Zuko took her left palm, dabbing carefully with the wet cloth. "But he didn't have to be a jerk about it... and look." He lifted the wadded-up handkerchief, showing it to Jin in the light. "See?"

"See what?" She frowned, tilting her head to see if the sun could catch what she was meant to see. "The sparkles?" She suggested.

"Yeah." Zuko sounded grim. "Except they're not 'sparkles', Jin. It's tiny fragments of glass."

"Oh." Jin's eyes widened "That's... really not good."

"No." Zuko's handkerchief went back in the water. "If stuff like that doesn't get picked out, it could stay in there and when the skin grows back over it, remain in your flesh."

"Ew!" Jin squeaked in disgust.

"Ew is right." Zuko doused his handkerchief again, wringing it out. "Gimme your other hand." She did so without protest, wiping her wet palm on the skirt of her dress.

"Where did you learn stuff like that?" Jin asked, watching as Zuko continued to carefully extract the tiny pieces of debris.

"... Around." He eventually muttered. "When you're wandering the countryside homeless, you pick up a few things."

"Oh..." Jn bowed her head. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, it's not your fault." Zuko said. "You're not the one that's heading this whole damn war."

"I know." Jin murmured. "But... All the same..."

"Hn?" Zuko pressed her to continue, still dabbing carefully, not wanting to grind anything into the exposed flesh.

"You must have seen a lot of things." She said, rather wistfully. "All sorts of different places and people."

"Different war sites and different refugees." Zuko said roughly, setting her palm down. "There." He rinsed his cloth one more time, wringing it out. "Good as new, almost."

"No, I know the whole world is torn apart by the war." Jin tried a different tack. "But there still must have been a lot of wonderful, beautiful things."

"... There are." Zuko folded his handkerchief in half, and tore it down the middle. "Jin..." He slowly looked up. "Have you _ever_ left Ba Sing Se before?"

"Nope." She sighed. "I was born here. Maybe if times were different, my family and I would have gone to see relatives and friends in other parts of the Earth Kingdom, but because of the war, it's just far too dangerous." She looked down glumly. "I've never seen past the walls."

"... It's not that great." Zuko shrugged, nevertheless feeling bad for the girl. After all, he'd been to all four corners of the earth, as a refugee, as traitorous vagabond, as a Prince...

"You're lying." She accused, watching as Zuko wrapped one of the cloths around her hand, tying it tight.

"Okay, I'm lying." Zuko said. "But the world isn't going to be in a state of war forever. It's going to end soon."

"Oh, I know!" Jin's eyes lit up. "I've heard all about the Avatar! How he's returned... Have you?"

"... Yes." She frowned, noticing the way Zuko's hands tightened. "I know."

"... What's wrong?" Her frown deepened. "How come it doesn't make you happy? The only people in the world that hate him are the Fire Nation."

"I don't hate him." Zuko said quickly. "I don't. I just... I guess I don't have any faith in him."

"What do you mean?" Jin withdrew her other hand before Zuko could finish tying the makeshift bandage. "How can you not have faith in the Avatar?"

"Well... I guess..." Zuko cast his mind about. "He can't defeat the Fire Lord." He settled on a plausible, and true, explanation. "He's a twelve-year-old boy."

"But he's the Avatar." Jin sighed in a deadpan tone. "He's the only one who _can_ defeat him."

"He might be an airbending master, but he's a novice at water and earth, and he doesn't even know any firebending." Zuko explained. "Air is the most useless element against fire. It's only designed to block and evade. The Air nomads used it for defensive purposes." _Which is how Great-grandfather Sozin defeated them so easily..._

"How do you know so much?" Jin frowned. "What, have you met him?"

"Yeah." Zuko said without thinking, then inwardly winced. "I was travelling with one of the groups of refugees he helped on the way to Ba Sing Se."

"Wow!" Jin gasped. "_You_ met the Avatar! Oh, you're so lucky, Lee! Travelling all of these places, meeting the _Avatar-_"

"I wouldn't have done that if it wasn't for the war." Zuko muttered. "It's the reason I had to leave my home, why my family is torn apart. It's a high price to pay for the 'experience', isn't it?"

"Oh, Lee." She said sympathetically. "I didn't mean to-"

"I know." Zuko said roughly. "Just give me your hand, okay? I haven't finished."

"Oh... Sure." She smiled weakly, offering the half-bound palm. "I'm sorry about your family... you don't have to tell me what happened."

"I wasn't going to." Zuko tied a tight knot on the torn handkerchief. "Do you live with both of your parents?" He asked after a moment of silence, releasing her hand.

"Yeah." She nodded. "Both my father and mother. And I have three brothers as well."

"You're lucky, Jin." Zuko looked down at the water. "There aren't many people in the world with their families in one piece."

"I know." Jin smiled weakly. "And I'm glad for that, every day. I'm glad they're here and with me. I don't know what I would do without them."

"Just make sure you don't take them for granted." Zuko kept his gaze on the water. "I did. And then she was gone..."

"She?" Jin enquired cautiously. Zuko froze.

"I said she?" He winced. She nodded. "'She' is –was- my mother."

"Oh..." She scooted towards Zuko, resting a hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay." But he didn't shrug her off. "I had a fair few years to grow close to her... Some people don't even know their mothers."

"Exactly." Jin murmured. "You know... Sometimes... I don't know, I just feel sort of... guilty."

"Why?" Zuko looked over at the girl. "Because you've got your whole family when so many others are torn apart?"

"Yeah." She said. "It's just not fair."

"You're right, it's not fair." Zuko agreed. "But Jin, you have no reason at all to feel guilty. Just be grateful that you have what you have."

"I am grateful." She nodded. "And I know how I feel is stupid... But I just can't help it, you know?"

"Yeah." Zuko nodded sympathetically. "I know." They sat together, in the silence for a few minutes, enjoying each others' company. Although the area around them was busy, filled with shopkeepers haggling behind their stalls, merchants shouting their wares, children splashing in the fountain around them, babies crying, and animals bleating, barking, and screeching, it felt oddly... Serene.

"Why do you like to come here?" Zuko asked presently asked curiously. Jin, who was staring into the shifting puzzle of water, looked up. "You said that you liked to watch the light, the play of fire on water. What is it that fascinates you?"

"About fire?" Jin asked softly. Zuko bit his lip, and nodded. "I... I don't know." She admitted slowly, flexing her bandaged hands. "Call me strange, I've just always been... interested in it. You don't think it's weird do you?"

"No." Zuko said gently. He lowered his gaze down to his hands, his spark rocks, finder and flint, torches, matches. His firemakers. "Fire is, after all, life. It breaths as we do."

"I've seen how a candle in a jar goes out." Jin nodded. "It's both pretty, and... chilling."

"It is." Zuko breathed, lifting his gaze once more. "The problem with fire, is that it's so hard to control. The Fire Nation have lost that control. Not with the physical fire, but their inner fire, the one that drives them, fuelled by rage and hate. That's what has made them evil people, it was always in their nature."

"You must have known one of them really well." Jin noted. "You know a lot about the Fire Nation, Lee."

"... I've had some experience with them." Zuko looked away from her, eyes trained on the water. "It's-"

"Complicated, I know." Jin cut in with a smile. Zuko looked up from the water and smiled at her rather sheepishly. "I get it, you prefer to be oh-so mysterious."

"It's just easier that way." The smile was gone from his face, and he looked down at the water. "I've already said a lot, I don't wanna say anymore."

"You don't have to." The girl said. "Lee, you're here, in Ba Sing Se. You're here, and you're safe, you and your uncle. Your past, who you were, everything you have done, can be erased, and you can start fresh here, become a whole new person."

"It's not that easy." Zuko stood up, and turned away, hands clenched into fists. _It's not true, not for me. For the rest of my life, I'll be Prince Zuko, traitor to everybody. The Earth Kingdom, and the Water Tribes hate me for trying to hunt down the Avatar, and for the blood in my veins. The Fire Nation hates me for my treachery against their tyrannical laws and traditions. No matter where I go, what I do, that will always remain with me. I have the Agni-damned scar to prove it!_

"Lee." Jin said pleadingly, standing up. Zuko tensed. _There it is again. Lee. The name, the identity I've created to try and hide myself. Running and hiding, it's all I've done for so long. Now Uncle and I are in Ba Sing Se, what? What do we do now; serve tea while the Fire Nation continues to invade the Earth Kingdom?_

"What." Zuko eventually turned around, hands still clenched, eyes still lowered. Wordlessly, Jin stepped towards the teenager, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a tight hug. She had always been a kindly and generous person, living in a large family had always reinforced that, and without any knowledge of what Zuko had done that was so awful, that filled him with anger and self-loathing, she tried to comfort him in the only way she knew how. The way that soothed her own tears and tantrums as she grew up, and how she consoled her younger brothers, with a soft, simple physical expression of kindness and caring.

_What is she..._ Zuko froze as Jin hugged him tightly, eyes wide. _Doing?_ He gulped, at first confused, was this some sort of approach? Did she expect another kiss after? Zuko stood as stiff, and rigid as a board, trying to understand what the hell she was doing, when something struck him. Apart from the occasional swamping bear-hug from his Uncle... He'd hadn't been hugged since...

_Mother._

He formed the words silently on his lips, his chest aching, as memories of the contact which he had been deprived of for so long came flooding back. Zuko tightly screwed up his eyes, and, limbs shaking, slowly wound his arms around the girls' waist in a lax embrace, resting his chin on her shoulder. An ember burned in his throat, threatening to dissolve, draw back up all the bottled up tears from those poignant, painful memories that he now tried so hard to force down for so many years.

_I'm breaking apart._

Zuko allowed himself to stay for a little while longer, snatching the rare moment of comfort, a gesture of warm and kindness from the girl with an embrace almost as tight and reassuring as his mothers', but eventually, pulled apart, and looked down at the ground stoutly, still trying to push the roaring bubble back down in his chest. Jin continued to cling to his hand, watching as he stared down at the cobblestones, his own grip lax.

"... Would you like to have dinner with us?" She asked seemingly out of the blue. "My mother makes an excellent-"

"I can't." Zuko cut her off, pulling his hand free.

"Why not, Lee?" Jin sounded almost pleading, concern evident in her face. "Are you not hungry or something?"

"No, not that." Zuko sighed. "It's just... I can't."

"Lee-"

"Look, I can't sit around at a table and play happy families with you all right? Get over it!" She shrank away, hurt.

"I-I never said that..." She said gently. "But... If that's how you feel..."

"Yes, it is!" Zuko was angry, angry at himself, his own weaknesses, his failures, his situation, what he had been reduced to, and he was taking it out on her. And it was unfair, he knew it. But once the words tumbled out of his mouth, they just wouldn't stop, no matter how much his brain tried to scream at him. "Stop trying to think you know me, Jin! You don't! You don't know anything about me! You don't know anything about anything! You're just a lowly peasant who has no idea about the real world! Stop trying to sympathise with me! I hate it! I hate it and I can't stand it!" With that, he turned, and without looking at her any further. He angrily shoved his way through the crowds of people, knocking several things over as he did so, but nothing was spared a second glance.

With Zuko quickly swallowed up by the crowd, Jin sat down beside the fountain, looking down at her hands, which the teenager had so tenderly bandaged for her. Dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve, she tried to retain her composure, but it was useless.

Surrounded by masses of moving bodies, and yet feeling so totally alone, the confused, hurt girl started to cry.

* * *

-sigh- don't you just love the angst?

This has a point, I swear.

Review, please. I don't mean to beg, but... Ah, screw it, I'm begging. But I mean, I know it doesn't look it, but I put a lot of work into this. I'm sure it doesn't take TOO much of your precious time to write me a few words on it. You can even flame if you want. Just pleeaaasseee.

/end pathetic beg-fest


	4. Chapter 4

Hey all!

I'm so amazed! 6 reviews wow! I'm so glad you all like this hee.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

"Hmmm...."

"It's good fish, old man! Take it!"

"Now now, no time to be hasty." Iroh rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "You say three copper pieces for this fish?"

"Yes! Three copper pieces!" The woman snapped. "Good deal! Good price! Good Fish!"

"Hmm..." Iroh was still very thoughtful. "I am not entirely convinced..."

"Bah! You miss your chance!" She snapped, withdrawing the fish. "Get out of my stall space!"

"Very well." Iroh shrugged. _Three copper pieces for that fish? It was two days old at least..._ He turned away from the stall and the grumbling woman, making his way along the crowded street slowly. Truth be told, he was savouring this somewhat pleasant walk down the streets of Ba Sing Se. Never before had the old man seen so many people crammed into such a vast network of streets, lanes, and alleys. It was mind-boggling. _And to think I was foolish and arrogant enough to believe that this city could be invaded. Ba Sing Se will never fall, not to my brother, not to Azula... _

"Hn?" He paused in the little square which he had wandered into with surprise. The fountain in the middle of the square teeming with shouting and splashing children, also contained a very solitary, very familiar figure with long brown hair and a pretty green dress. Jin sat alone, still wiping at her eyes, looking despondently down at her lap.

_What has my nephew done? _Iroh sighed, and slowly made his way towards the young girl.

"You look very depressed, young Jin." The elderly man noted, watching as Jin jumped at the sound of his voice, eyes widening.

"Oh... Yes, I suppose that I am..." Jin said softly, eyes lowered. "It's just Lee..."

"Ah, he us being his typical self, no?" Iroh said in a wry voice. "Don't listen to what he says."

"But I c-can't help it." She sniffed, wiping at her nose. "I'm only trying to be nice and understanding... But he just pushes me away. He's always so miserable, and I just want to know why."

"My nephew, he is a complicated young boy." Iroh said delicately, Jin's hands tensing. There was that word again. _Complicated._ "He has seen and done some very nasty things, you must realise."

"I understand that much." Jin murmured. "He even tried to tell me that he was in the circus... But he couldn't juggle to save himself."

"Yes, the circus story isn't true." Iroh nodded. There was no sense in lying, not when she saw right through it. "But what really happened..." He looked on the ground. "Was hard. For the both of us."

"I'm sorry." Jin said. "And I understand that you and Lee need your privacy on this, I really do. But when you see him tonight, can you tell him that a handful of angry words and a few harsh insults aren't going to get rid of me that easily?"

"Oh, I think I can tell him." Iroh nodded. "Jin, your presence is giving him cause for mental conflict, that I cannot ignore, but he's also been, at times, much happier as of late. And I'm pretty sure I know what put that smile on his face." He gave the girl a sidelong glance and a smile.

"Thanks, Mr. Mushi." She beamed, and stood up. "It's getting late, I'm sorry, but I have to go."

"As do I." Iroh groaned as he stood up. "These groceries aren't going to buy themselves now." He nodded. "You make sure you get home safe Jin."

"Thank you." She gave a bow, and left, melting effortlessly into the crowd.

* * *

"You know, you should be nicer to that girl." Iroh announced as he closed the front door behind himself, arms loaded with wrapped groceries. "She's very sweet."

"... Whatever." Iroh's shoulders slumped. Zuko was in the middle of the small living space, seated in the tin washtub. He'd wrapped his arms around his legs, resting his chin on his knees.

"She's only trying to be understanding." Iroh set the groceries down on the wooden eating table, unwrapping them from layers of slightly crinkled leaves and paper. "Don't be angry at her for it."

"I'm not angry at her." Zuko murmured, staring down at his toes through the water. He leaned forward a little, breathing through slightly pursed lips, adding a fresh jet of heat to the tub. The water steamed further in response, the clouds of vapour swaying in the air. "I'm just..." He raked a hand through is damp hair, the sound of Iroh's stacking filling the silence for a few moments. "I don't know. I'm confused."

"I understand that much." Iroh said gravelly. "But whatever you are feeling, you shouldn't take it out on her."

"I know." Zuko gritted his teeth. "I just... I can't help myself..." He swallowed. "I... I feel like I'm trapped between two people. I don't know who I should be, Lee or Zuko. And... Whenever Jin calls me Lee, I just feel so horrible. I'm lying to her. She likes me, so much, and I'm lying to her, every moment of every day. The boy she's falling in love with... Doesn't exist."

"Ah." Iroh closed the small wooden cupboard quietly, a frown on his face. "I have said several times, my nephew, that perhaps the best thing is to make a new life here and forget about the Fire Nation."

"That's easy for you to say, Uncle." Zuko muttered. "I want to think like that... After everything that's happened... I know it's for the best. But I can't! I can't stop thinking about everything I've lost and I can't _take_ it!" Iroh sighed sadly as the tub erupted in a violent cloud of steam.

"I know things are hard right now." Iroh looked down at the carrot he was slicing. "But we are comfortable here. It is a humbled existence, but it is honest. We are making our own way without stealing or begging, and there is a small pride in that."

"Small pride for you." Zuko muttered, standing up and wrapping a towel around his waist. "This place is still a dump, and we're still low-class refugees'."

"This may be true." Iroh admitted. "But you must look at the positives."

"Oh yeah?" The teenager marched towards Iroh. "Enlighten me, Uncle. What _are_ these positives?"

"Well, Jin for one." Iron swept the cut carrot into the small cooking pot. Zuko froze. "If you remained in the Fire Nation, you would have been in an arranged marriage by now."

"... Really?" Zuko winced. Iroh nodded. "Were you?" He inquired, realising just how little he really knew of Iroh's deceased wife.

"Our engagement was announced on my sixteenth birthday." Iroh said somewhat sadly, slicing the knife through the cabbage. "She was the daughter of one of my fathers' most trusted generals. I'd met her about two or three times before the engagement was proclaimed. I had no say in it the whole thing at all, of course."

"Did you love her?" Zuko asked tentatively, combing his dripping bangs with his fingers, one hand clutching at his towel.

"I tried." Iroh said simply. "But I was young, and she younger. We knew what was expected of us, and that was what strained the pair of us so badly. But even as she grew up, she... We didn't understand each other." Iroh explained. "She was so full of Fire Nation pride, and nothing else was in her head, nothing at all. She was... Like a much, much less intelligent version of Azula."

"Oh." Zuko stared as the cabbage continued to be sliced.

"I tried to connect with her." Iroh sighed. "But she saw me as the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, not as Iroh. She saw our marriage as a duty to produce an heir to the throne, to keep the fire of the country alive, and she was so proud at being chosen, to do so, nothing more."

"I'm sorry." Zuko sounded genuine. Iroh had never spoken of his wife before. "Didn't she die giving birth?"

"To Lu Ten, yes." Iroh nodded. "I was twenty-nine, she was twenty-eight. My father was angry that it had taken so long to produce an heir, but relieved it was a son, not a daughter. Twelve years later, he had married Ozai off to your mother just after he turned seventeen. And nine months after the wedding, you came along."

"I didn't realise my parents were so young." Zuko said softly. "There wouldn't have been any hurry at all... Why didn't they wait?"

"Ursa..." Zuko tensed at the name, and Iroh gave him a sidelong glance. _Should I tell him?_ "...Explained to me later that Ozai was very anxious to father children as soon as he could. I didn't realise, but even then, he must have been working away at some sort of plan..."

"Sounds like my father." Zuko muttered. "But what are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to say, my nephew." He put the pot of rice on to cook, before starting on the onion. "That one thing you have been given is the choice of whom you will love. Unlike your father and I, you're not being forced into a marriage for political, or for blood purity reasons."

"I-I'm not going to get married!" Zuko spluttered. "I'm way too young to even think about that!"

"I just explained that your family has for generations been betrothed at sixteen or younger." Iroh noted patiently. "I'm not saying you must get married now. You are far too young to know what you want."

"I don't think I'll ever know what I want." He muttered, looking away. "But looking at everything that's happened... I'm wondering just how much honour there is in being the Prince of a nation that's tearing the world apart."

"Go and get dressed, my nephew." Iroh said softly, and when Zuko turned away, starting to cross the room, a smile broke across his face. _I know you will find your way, soon. And I am doing my best to guide you, but there is only so much I can do, and so many decisions you must make for yourself, young Zuko._

_But I will be by your side to help you._ Iroh's mind drifted back to that of his son, almost eight years ago, on that horrible, horrible day, sunset, when the young Lu Ten, had been cornered, by two very experienced Earth Kingdom warriors, and Iroh was not able to reach him in time.

_I am not going to repeat my past mistakes. _A single tear slid down the old mans' cheek.

* * *

A week passed.

Jin continued to sit at her table in the corner of the shop every day, drinking a cup of jasmine tea with her eyes lowered and hands folded in her lap in between tentative sips. And every time, it was Iroh that was forced to collect the empty cup and receive the bill, Zuko quickly making himself scarce. It was obvious that he was avoiding her, and what reasons, it was far from clear, but the young Earth Kingdom girl was persistent. She was patient, too, and instead of storming into the back room, shouting at him like Zuko expected her to do, she merely entered the shop meekly, keeping her eyes lowered as she slunk to her regular table, waiting for Iroh, or perhaps the tea shop owner himself, to come to her.

It was driving Zuko insane, and he knew it. Whenever he saw her arrive, he would stare, through the small internal window that looked into the front of the store, watching as she would gaze down at her steaming tea, with that heart-breaking, despondent look on her face. It hurt him, too, to know that he was the reason for her pain, his angry rejection had reduced her to this anguished shell of her formal self, slipping through her daily tasks with the same troubled expression, the same downcast eyes.

_I have to do something._ Zuko realised as he watched her sip her tea on the seventh day since their explosive encounter. _I can't keep doing this to her, to myself..._

_I like her. I do. _He sighed deeply. _And... When I think about... How we were together, and if that happened again... It makes me happy. Happier than I've been in... a while..._

_Is there anything wrong with... Being happy?_

_There is if it's based on lies._ Zuko lowered his eyes, hands clenched. And that was the issue. No matter how hard he tried, there would always be that barrier between them, the hidden truths and the uncomfortable lies. Zuko would never be able to truthfully tell the girl just why he was so deep in mental anguish, and Jin would always be concerned and upset that Zuko was so fraught with trouble, and yet would never explain why.

_If I could only tell her, that my whole life has been shattered by this war, that all I'm doing is living up to this unrealistic expectation of my father, that I've never felt anything but anger and rejection from him, that I've hurt so many people and now it's all coming back to haunt me..._

..._ Maybe I can._ Zuko froze, his gaze fixed on the girl. _Perhaps..._ He gasped as Jin suddenly looked up, and quickly lowered his stare to the dirty cups in front of him, which he started to clean. Aware of her eyes on him, he kept his stare focused on the dishes, his face starting to blush. _Please, stop looking at me..._

When he dared lift his gaze again, Jin was gone.

* * *

"Please speak to her."

Zuko sighed as his uncle immediately nagged him, the moment he walked in the door after a long walk.

"Why." He muttered, kicking off his shoes and slouching at the table, where a bowl of rice and fried vegetables waited for him next to a steaming cup of tea. "What good will it do."

"More than you realise, my young nephew." Iroh said sagely. "I saw you looking at her today. You sadden her, and she confuses you."

"I know." He muttered, digging his chopsticks into the food. "But I told her to butt out. I told her that I couldn't take it anymore. What more do I need to say to her?"

"Do you really think like that?" Iroh blew on his half-finished tea, giving it just a little extra heat. "Do you never want to speak to her again?"

"... I don't know." Zuko mumbled around a mouthful of food. "I don't know anything right now. I want to be able to tell the truth to her. I want to look her in the eye and explain what it is that hurts me so bad, but I can't do that. Because the truth is so damn awful. She'd hate me. Hate me and turn me into the Dai Li."

"I'm not saying you need to tell her all about Prince Zuko." Iroh said patiently. "I understand this is hard for you nephew. But she's a very sweet and genuine person. I doubt you would find someone else so understanding."

"Firstly, I'm not interested in finding someone else. I was never interested in finding anyone to begin with." Zuko muttered. "Secondly, 'understanding', as you put it, can only go so far. I don't think she'll exactly understand if I told her my father was the man who invaded her country."

"You are so stubborn, Zuko." Iroh shook his head. "Just like your father."

"No." Zuko growled, slamming his fist on the table. "I am not like him. I'm not a monster."

"I never once suggested you were." Iroh was alarmed. "I was not aware you thought of him so harshly."

"After what he did, it's hard not to." Zuko admitted, his tone markedly softer. "He can't even show care and compassion for his own son. Everything's been taken over by hate and greed."

"It is horrible." Iroh agreed sadly. "And I am pleased to know that you understand that. So tell me this Zuko, if he is such a monster, and you hold him in such low regard, then why are you so passionate about regaining your honour and being deemed a success in his eyes?"

"... Because." Zuko rested his forehead in a flattened palm. "Maybe if I restored my honour, he would accept me. Maybe he would finally love me."

"... Do you think he loves Azula?" Iroh drained the last of his tea. "The one who has never done a thing wrong, the firebending prodigy, the picture of ultimate perfection?"

"He's proud of her." Zuko muttered. "He's pleased with her. She makes him happy. He can call her his child without any shame."

"But does he love her?" Iroh pressed further, watching as Zuko set down his chopsticks. Clearly, this subject troubled him, but he needed Zuko to get it out. He needed him to realize.

"... I don't think he's capable of loving or caring for anybody." Both hands covered Zuko's face, elbows propping his upper half on the table. He felt sick with the horrible realisation, something that had been niggling him in the back of his mind for a very long time, something he blocked out, never wanted to face.

"... I love you, my nephew." Zuko tensed at the warm hand on his shoulder. "And I am so proud of you. I know you are struggling, but you are so strong, so full of resolve. And you're a very skilled firebender." He added. "But more than that, you understand. You understand what is right and what is wrong. You understand the true meaning of honour, and the importance of love and trust. And that is something my brother and Azula will never learn." He wrapped one arm around Zuko's shoulders, pressing his forehead to the untidy thatch of dark hair in a short embrace, before straightening, and collecting the used plates and cups, stacking the china carefully before making his way to the small tub which was already filled with water.

"... Thank you, Uncle." The shaky voice came almost a minute later. His hands pausing in the slowly steaming water, Iroh turned his head, to look over at Zuko, who had lifted his head from his hands, rubbing at his good eye with one hand.

"Any time, my nephew." Iroh said softly, his heart swelling.

* * *

_All right. I can do this._ Zuko breathed in deeply, the point of the tiny brushed doused in ink. He decided that, rather than face her in the shop, he would write her a short note. Unfortunately, that was _much_ harder than he could handle.

'_Good afternoon, Jin.' No, that's too stiff and formal. 'Hi Jin!' When in the name of Agni did I ever say hi? 'Greetings?' Nope. 'Salutations?' Now I'm just being ridiculous. Why does this have to be so __**stupid! **_Zuko growled aloud, bringing a fist down onto the tabletop with a _thud_. _All right. I need to stop pussyfooting around this. I need to be simple and straightforward._

"_Jin_

_We need to talk. Meet me at the Firelight Fountain tonight at sundown."_

_Should I put 'yours' Lee? Why? Do I belong to her? 'Yours sincerely?' 'Yours truly?' Ugh, forget it!_

"_Lee"_ He signed quickly, and then left the ink to dry, standing up and arching his back in a long stretch. Truth be told, he'd been sitting at the table for over an hour agonizing over what to say. Agonizing over a one-lined note, how pathetic was he? Zuko sighed, and walked over to the window, which was still un-shuttered. He folded his arm on the frame and rested his head against the pale limbs, gazing silently across the courtyard. He could still see several shapes silhouetted against thin paper shutters, despite the late hour. Many people worked long into the night keeping their homes clean, after spending a long, laborious day toiling for a few copper coins. It was sad to think about.

_How can people spend their entire lives like this? _He sighed. _Day in, day out, with no respite, not even a glimmer of hope for anything better?_

_It's better than being homeless._ He lowered his eyes to his hands. _Better than being on the run from the Fire Nation. _ It still stung. His own people thought of him as a traitor. _All I've ever done is for their good. How can father blame me for the North Pole failure? Zhao was the one who commanded everything. _

_Sometimes, it seems like he's just been out to get rid of me._ Zuko swallowed. _When Mother left... Did he even put up a fight against my grandfather? Was he willing to sacrifice me, without hesitation?_ The thought brought a sour taste to his mouth. _Ever since I've been a child, he dug at me. All the damn time. I was a useless firebender. I was terrible at my studies. I was weak. How could someone born from such a high pedigree be such a failure? He never said that to my face, but Azula heard him mention it to Iroh. Of course she would tell me. _

_I don't think I'm a failure. I know I'm not a failure. I may not be the son my Father wanted... But that doesn't mean I'm not strong. It doesn't mean I couldn't lead my country._

_It's hopeless. It's all hopeless. Maybe, maybe if Azula wasn't the kind of person she was, so perfect, set against me the failure, the he would have accepted me. But... For scarring me in the damn __**face**__, for speaking out of turn, for banishing me on a mission he knew I could never fulfil... He doesn't even want me back. Even if I captured the Avatar, how long before I would make some other mistake? How long before he found some other reason to get rid of me? _He shivered, and it was not entirely due to the night air.

"Aaaaah, are you still up, Prince Zuko?" Iroh's sleepy voice entered the room, the elderly man yawning and stretching.

"Yeah." His voice cracked, and he swallowed. "I can't sleep."

"Why ever not?" Iroh cast a glance to the note, the ink now dry.

"First, it was Jin." Zuko admitted, his voice still shaking. "Now I can't stop thinking about Father."

"... Do not allow yourself to dwell on things like that." Iroh said softly. "For one, it's not healthy. For another, sitting in the dark, stewing things over will not do any good. You cannot change things such as this."

"If I captured the Avatar and sent him to Father, would we be able to return to the Fire Nation?" Zuko asked suddenly, still looking out of the apartment window.

"Well, I would assume so." Iroh frowned. "But my Prince, I thought we were going to try-"

"Yeah yeah, that whole new life stuff, I know." Zuko said dismissively. "No, what I mean is... Would Father actually accept me, or would he be waiting for some other reason to get rid of me?"

"... What brought this on, Zuko?" Iroh was stricken. "Why ever would your father do that?"

"You said yourself he was incapable of love." Zuko muttered. "And besides, he didn't exactly fight very hard to spare my life against your father. I know I'm being stupid. It just feels like..." He trailed off shaking his head. "I don't even know anymore."

"He is a complicated man." Iroh noted, Zuko's hands tensing. "But Zuko, please, you must put these thoughts out of your mind for the time being. Dwelling on your father when you are powerless will only cause pain."

"I know." Zuko straightened his back. "I just... I can't help myself. You think I like feeling like this?"

"Get some sleep." Iroh took a hold of Zuko's shoulders, gently pushing the teenager to his small bedroom.

"I don't think I can." Zuko argued. "You're right, I am powerless. And I don't wanna be anymore! I can't take just rotting away in this dump of a city!" He wrenched himself free of Iroh. "Look, I know you're happy here, Uncle. And I'm trying. I'm trying really hard, but I can't put up with this anymore! I know I should be lucky and counting my blessings and all that but it sure as hell doesn't feel like that!" Iroh watched silently as Zuko stomped into his bedroom, slamming the screen door shut behind him.

He sank onto the futon, crouched on the balls of his feet, digging his palms into his eyes. Zuko's breathing was harsh and erratic, and he knew, he just _knew_ that if he didn't get a hold of himself soon, he was going to break down into humiliating sobs. _I need to calm down._ He reached for his thin pillow on an impulse, hugging it tightly against his chest and biting down hard on a corner. Not for comfort, as it looked like, but so he had something spend his strength on, and if the worst did happen, at least his breakdown would be silent. The teenagers' fingers dug into the fabric, and he tensed his arms as tight as he could, until his wiry arms were burning with the strain. He wasn't angry. He wasn't hurt. He was simply terrified.

Ever since he was a small child, ever since he had grasped the concept of time and growing up and life, he had his ambition, his goal, first of being a high-ranking General beside his cousin, A close advisor and trusted comrade, much like his father was to Iroh. After Azulon's death, and with the realisation that he would one day be Fire Lord, Zuko's sense of duty and ambition had increased. He tried to do everything he could to be that perfect Prince, to be his father's first-born, the future Fire Lord, with his own dreams of the day he would finally take a seat on the magnificent throne. Everything he did, every decision he made, was influenced by his so-called destiny. And now, that he finally realised how little his father cared for him, how impossible it was to ever regain his honour and his birthright...

... There was nothing. His future was a gaping black pit. He was literally, living one day to the next. Even when he was banished, there was the hope of capturing the Avatar, although once he and his uncle became 'traitors' of the Fire Nation, the struggle to survive took up most of his time and energy. But he made a couple of decent attempts. Now, when he had nothing to do, save a physically light job, he felt so completely devoid of a purpose.

_I'm not nothing._ Zuko shakily lay down on his futon, staring up at the ceiling with the pillow still in his arms. _I've lost everything, my home, my chance at restoring my honour, almost all of my family... _ He swallowed. _But there has to be something worth fighting for. There has to be something to stay here for. Not just Uncle and his stupid tea shop, even though I couldn't bear to leave him again. I could go looking for the Avatar once more. Try and pick up on some rumours about where he is, where he is heading. There's refugee's here in the city that have travelled from all over the Earth Kingdom._

_And then what? Try to find him? Hunt him down, alone? I could take him alone, but he's not alone. He's surrounded by his stupid friends and whether I like it or not, the two girls are very powerful benders._ Katara's face floated past in the eye of Zuko's mind. _She would defend Aang to the death._ He winced. It was more painful to call him Aang. It reminded Zuko that he was a just a child, who was only trying to fix his past mistakes. _Would defend the Avatar to the death. _ He corrected himself. _And I don't want to kill her. I've done my best in the past to prevent any loss of life._

_Unless I found a band of people powerful enough to take on the Avatar, I couldn't face him._ Zuko screwed up his face. _And who in Ba Sing Se would hate the Avatar so much that they would fight for his destruction? Maybe if I was in the Fire Nation... But they hate me there, if I tried to go, I would be arrested in a second and sent to face my father..._ A cold feeling settled in Zuko's stomach. _He wouldn't... execute me, would he?_ Zuko rolled over onto his side, curling into himself a little. _What I've done isn't wrong. Well, not wrong enough to warrant an execution..._

_But he would see it as a chance to get rid of me._ Zuko felt as though he had swallowed a lump if ice, and was feeling positively sick.

_So if it's a choice. Find the Avatar, while away the rest of my life in this prison, or... die.

* * *

_Yeah... Sorry it's so angsty.

The next couple of chapters are probably going to -gasp- follow the canon of the story. I know, amazing, huh!

Well, kind of. I'm not going to recycle dialogue and crap like that, I'm sure you don't need me to haha.

REVIEW PLEASE! The more reviews I get, the faster I update. And that is a fact.


	5. Chapter 5

Heyy, look another update!

Thanks heaps for the reviews! I noticed that I had (stupidly) disable anonymous reviews so now they're enabled you can review without logging in yay!

Disclaimer: I own nothing here.

* * *

The sun was close to setting.

All right, so he was early. Zuko stared surreptitiously around himself, before lowering his gaze to the folded hands in his lap. He couldn't help it. He was anxious. And there was only so much pacing around the back of the shop Iroh could take before he sent his nephew out, mostly so he himself could get some damn peace.

_What in the name of Agni am I going to say to her?_ Zuko tugged at his hair, something he had become accustomed to doing when he was stressed. _I know I can't tell her the full story, she'd hand me and my uncle right over to the Dai Li. And we already know just how strongly they feel about Uncle after what he did at Ba Sing Se. There's no way I'll risk our lives just to ease my own conscience and explain things to her. _

_I should have thought this over more thoroughly. _Zuko sighed deeply. _I mean, I can't tell her the truth, but I can't lie to her. I'm not very good at it, and besides, I didn't think up a cover story beforehand. Maybe I should just run._ He bit his lip, tempted.

"Lee!" Zuko winced, and stood up, finding Jin pushing her way through the crowd, approaching him. _Too late to back out now._ He swallowed, and plastered a small smile on his face, his heart thudding rather unsteadily in his chest.

"Jin." He nodded as they met, the Firelight Fountain still pretty crowded. "It's... Good to see you." And it was true. Well, to be strictly honest, he had been seeing her every day, but this was the first time since their disastrous meeting a week ago that he spotted a smile on her face. He'd almost forgotten how it made her face light up, how pretty she was when she was beaming with joy.

"I'm really glad you wanted to see me, Lee." She said somewhat nervously, her eyes lowered. "And I'm sorry if it seemed like I was smothering you. I really didn't mean to act like I was prying-"

"Jin, it's okay." Zuko held up one hand, silencing the girl. "I was the one who acted like a total jerk. You were just trying to be understanding and I pushed you away. I know, I'm messed up, but that doesn't mean I have to take it out on you. I should just be damn glad that someone is so concerned for me."

"Lee, you weren't being a jerk." Jin argued. "I was the one that was out of line. Your business is your own, and I need to learn to respect that."

"All the same..." Zuko swallowed. "I still want to tell you." Jin stilled.

"What?" She frowned. "Tell me what?"

"About where I came from." He wasn't able to quite look her in the eye. "About why I can be such a jerk sometimes."

"Oh!" Jin perked up, surprised, and clearly a little excited. A moment later, she bit her lip, looking around the crowded square. "Is this about..." She leaned in a little, lowering her voice. "The War?"

"Yeah, I guess." He frowned. "Why?"

"... You shouldn't say anything here." Zuko noticed the edge she had adopted to the tone of her voice. "You don't know who could be listening."

"Listening?" Zuko frowned, but Jin had already started to walk away from him, enticing him to follow with a long singer. "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere more private." Jin explained as they turned onto a major street. "I know it may seem like I'm being paranoid, but you just can't be too careful. If someone heard us talking about the War and handed us in to the Dai Li..."

"It wouldn't be fun." Zuko finished, shivering. "Yeah, I see your point. But you forget for crowded and huge this city is. Finding somewhere private to talk isn't exactly easy."

"Not for you maybe, mister world explorer." Jin said teasingly. "But I've lived in Ba Sing Se for my whole life. I know this part of the lower ring like the back of my hand. Better." She'd turned into a narrow alley as they spoke, one which twisted and turned through a maze of houses. "There's so many little nooks and crannies to find. I used to explore with my brother Jiro all the time when we were kids."

"But you still are a kid." Zuko argued. "Well, I mean, technically."

"Are you kidding? I've been working since I was twelve." Jin sighed.

"Really? Doing what?" He frowned. _Twelve? Really? Is that how old the working classes have to get jobs?_

"Oh, just a cleaning job." Jin explained. "Dawn 'til noon every day. Nothing strenuous. And it's good because I have the whole afternoon to myself... Mother usually makes me clean, though." She made a face. "Comes with being the only daughter though, I guess."

"Wow." Zuko blinked. "This tea-serving job is actually the first paid work I've ever had... I mean, I once did odd jobs for a farmer in a village a few hundred miles south, but that was just in exchange for food and a place to sleep. When I was twelve I spent nearly all of my time studying... It was horrible."

"I never went to school." Jin said wistfully. "I learned how to read and write, my aunt taught me, but I've never had any education. That must be why you know everything, still going to school at twelve and all."

"Yeah." Zuko muttered. "My father... Is a very wealthy man." He looked away, "And he had some pretty high hopes for me..."

"You can tell me all about it here." Jin stopped outside a door. It sagged off its' hinges, creaking painfully. Zuko blinked, but followed her into the dark little hovel.

"Doesn't anyone live here?" He looked around in the single room. the windows were boarded up, and the floor littered with scraps of cloth and broken pottery.

"Squatters, maybe." She shrugged. "But nobody is here during the daytime. And I'm not really brave enough to come at night."

"Oh." Jin had paused beside a ladder. "Up here?"

"Yup." She went first. "Don't look up my dress, Lee." She warned. "I mean it."

"Wasn't dreaming of it." Zuko blushed, and looked fixedly at his hands as he made his way up the rickety ladder, clambering into the ominous dark space above him. "We there yet?"

"Uh-huh." Jin offered Zuko a hand, which the teenager took stepping into the darkness. Here, the windows were boarded up tighter than ever, and Zuko had to struggle to see through the intense darkness. "Along here." Jin kept a hold of Zuko's hand, and brushed her fingertips along the wall, stepping cautiously.

"Where the heck are we going?" Zuko had to ask. "You're not expecting us to sit in the dark, are you?"

"No, of course not." There was a smile on Jin's face. "Watch out, there's a staircase."

"Then where are we going?" Zuko demanded, walking carefully up the sagging stairs. "What's so great we have to go wading through the darkness?"

"Something else that's special." Jin said softly. "This is another one of my favourite places. Jiro and I discovered it when we were twelve, trying to find somewhere to hide after he bent a rock at a soldier."

"Bent?" Zuko raised an eyebrow. "Your brother is a bender?"

"Uh-huh." The pair stepped into the upper room of the narrow house, which was just as filthy and abandoned. "It's really rare in the lower classes of Ba Sing Se, so we all keep quiet about it." There was a definite note of sadness to her voice. "You don't want to stand out from the crowd."

"Definitely not." Zuko watched as Jin walked towards the window, which was, surprisingly, unboarded.

"Come on." She coaxed him as she started to climb out of the window, and onto a narrow, rather wobbly plank that had been set up. Most girls would have cringed away at the potential danger, but Jin walked across it easily. Zuko followed suit apprehensively, looking straight ahead of himself, instead of down or around. "Almost there." She crawled up the sharply sloping roof, until finally, she was able to perch on the apex, staring down below her.

"... Wow." Zuko breathed as he took a seat beside her. He could see why Jin would go through so much effort to get here. It was the highest building in the vicinity, and also built on the gentle slope towards the upper ring, and save for the abandoned house beside them, there was really no other house that was close. He could see people below, scurrying about as numerous and insignificant as ants. "This is really... Wow." He repeated again, temporarily stunned. "You can see everything from up here."

"And the best part is, no one can see you." Jin smiled. "Or hear you. It's one of the few places I've found that's really private, mainly because it's so open, nobody would think to look here." Zuko watched as she slowly lay down on the roof, staring up at the sky, which was lit a brilliant orange by the dying sun, arms folded behind her head. Zuko silently followed suit, the tiles warm against his back, having been lit up by the sun all day.

"It's so…" Zuko murmured thoughtfully, trying to find a word that suited his tongue.

"Beautiful." Jin finished with a smile, curling her toes in her sandals. "It kinda looks like… Like the sky's burst into flames." She studied the sweeping fiery orange and yellow, which furled against the sky as though an artist had painted the scene with his brush.

"It will soon." Zuko said mournfully, turning his head to the side, away from Jin, who tensed, and slowly sat up.

"What do you mean?" She said slowly. "What do you mean; the sky will burst into flames soon?"

"I mean…" Zuko swallowed. "Do you know how the War originally started?" He slowly sat up, watching as Jin shook her head. "There was a reason Fire Lord Sozin waited so long before invading the other nations. It was because a comet passed through our atmosphere, renamed Sozins' comet, and it gave the firebenders incredible strength. Kinda like how a waterbenders' power waxes and wanes with the moon, but on a much bigger scale. Anyway," He continued. "Sozins' comet is going to pass through our skies once more, at the end of this summer, in fact." He heard Jin gasp. "It's what Fire Lord Ozai is waiting for. He's going to use that power to completely crush the Earth Kingdom and what's left of the Water Tribes. I wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't exterminate them like he did the Air Nomads."

"No!" Jin cried out, stricken. "Lee, you can't be serious! How… How can that be true?"

"It is." Zuko muttered, eyes focused on his green trousers. "But there is one bit of hope." The word sounded so false on his tongue. Oh, how he was sick of hearing it.

"The Avatar." Jin concluded quickly, Zuko nodding. "I just, ugh, it makes me so angry!" She balled her hands into fists. "How can they do that? How the _hell_ can the Fire Nation actually destroy so many peoples' lives! How can they wipe out an entire race and not feel any guilt or shame for what they have done? They're monsters, all of them!"

"… I don't know." Zuko said honestly. "I have no idea… An entire race can't just be evil for no reason though."

"I know." Jin swallowed, sounding calmer. "And I shouldn't be talking about the Fire Nation, you know much more about them than I do." She looked at Zuko, or at least, his scar.

"… Yeah." His fingers brushed the skin, which had actually softened up a lot since he'd been gifted the cream. It was almost as smooth as his normal skin. Almost. "I-I do…" He drew his knees up slowly, one hand winding his loose green sleeve around his finger. His hands were shaking, he could see that plainly, and he was pretty sure that Jin could see it too.

"Lee, are you okay?" She rested a hand on his shoulder. Oh. She could.

"No." Zuko admitted, the 'Lee' hurting him like a blow from a stick. He felt ashamed, embarrassed that he had lost his composure the way he had, and he _knew_ that it made whatever he was about to tell her seem so much more awful. "I-I…"

"Before you say anything, perhaps I should." Jin attempted, her voice shaking slightly. Zuko looked up in surprise, and saw her bend over, skimming along the rooftops until her fingers closed around a small stone. "I wasn't honest with you… About me having no secrets."

"What do you mean?" Zuko asked, watching Jin intently.

"Well…" She gulped slowly, and closed her fist around the small rock, tensing her hand before flattening her palm once more, extending it for Zuko to see. His good eye widened at the crushed rock in her hand, which had been reduced to nothing but dust.

"Either you're incredibly strong, or…"

"I'm an earthbender, yep." She let the dust fall through her fingers silently.

"Why do you keep that a secret?" Zuko frowned. "I don't care. I mean, I care, but… You know…"

"Yeah, I know." She looked away from the teenager, and out over the city. "It's just that… Girls are not benders. I know that sounds weird, but it's the truth here. And if people know you're a bender and they're not, they treat you differently. I'm like Jiro, I keep it a secret from everyone but my family."

"And me." Jin nodded. "Jin," Zuko sighed. "I'll admit, I had no idea how Ba Sing Se works, but from the places I've been, they haven't had a problem with female benders. The strongest waterbender I know is a woman. Well, a girl. And it's not like there's some sort of law restricting bending. There are in other cities and villages, but not Ba Sing Se."

"I know, there's no written law, but it's very cultural." She explained. "Like, how every single member of the Dai Li and the Ba Sing Se armies are men. There isn't a single female there. That's because bending among females is seen as uncouth. If people knew I was a bender, I would never be able to get married. Most of my friends would be terrified of me…" She shook her head. "Not telling anyone is so much easier."

"But, no bender should keep their ability a secret." Zuko argued. "It makes them a part of who they are. It should be celebrated, not covered up. It…" He fell silent as he realized the hypocrisy of his own words, and looked down at his hands. "Can't be hidden forever…"

"I know." Jin's voice caught. "And I feel… Ashamed, that I have to keep it hidden. It should be such a big part of who I am and yet I push it away all the time…" She trailed off, shaking her head. "Sorry, I'm just talking nonsense."

"No, you're not." Zuko protested. "And you shouldn't push it away. You need to embrace it as part of who you are and where you come from." _Hypocrite hypocrite hypocrite!_ He blinked rapidly, in an attempt to abolish the voice from his head.

"I know. But… Look." She shook her head. "We're not talking about me here, we're talking about you." Her tone became softer, he realized. More gentle. "You were going to tell me about yourself…"

"Yeah. I know." Zuko raked his fingers through his hair again, the tremors returning. "But… I don't think I can…"

"_Lee..._" She sighed. "Please, don't be afraid to tell me. You can-"

"I _can't!"_ Zuko replied, his voice in a panic. He was really beside himself, she noticed with a pang. "You just… You don't… You can't understand…"

"Understand what?" She pleaded, scooting towards Zuko and taking a gentle hold of his chin. "Please… whatever it is, I'll understand…" She turned her face to meet his, looking him directly in the eyes.

Usually, whenever they were so close, it was nighttime, or Zuko wasn't looking her quite in the eye, or they were pushed apart after a second of intimacy, but alone on the rooftop, with the light still reasonably strong as the dying sun began to fade behind the horizon, Zuko staring her straight in the eye, she noticed something very peculiar.

Zuko had very yellow eyes. No, not yellow, that wasn't the right word for it. They were a sort of gold, but far brighter, almost seeming to glow. They… They _burned_. Like…

She remembered the night they first met, how anxious Zuko was to mention anything about himself, reducing himself to lying terribly and juggling very badly. She remembered the Firelight Fountain, how he had made her close her eyes, before magically alighting the many many torches and candles in the dark courtyard within the space of a few seconds. She remembered how panicked and unsettled he became whenever the subject of his past was brought up, how reluctant he was to say anything, and how upset he was when it seemed that something might slip out. She remembered how much Zuko knew about the Fire Nation, far too much, for someone who had only ran into them. How well-educated he was, and well he knew world history, particularly about the War.

And now, she noticed how sharp and narrow his features were in comparison to any other Earth Kingdom boy she had met. She noticed that his skin was shockingly pale, especially against her hand, and how he was naturally quite short, only a few inches taller than her.

_He's from the Fire Nation._

It was as though she had been doused in cold water. The shock of it was like a smack in the face to the girl, who had often wondered about what the boy had been through, but never, in a million years could comprehend something so horrible.

_He's one of them._

She felt Zuko turn away, the teenager still preoccupied with his own thoughts. Jin sat silently, staring at the side of his face closest to her, his scarred side. Her heart was beating wildly in her ribcage, and she felt a cold bead of sweat trickle down her back. But, she realized after a moment, it was the pure shock of learning Zuko's nationality which startled her, not any fear or horror towards him.

_I'm... Not afraid._ Her mouth was dry, and she swallowed, looking down at her knees. _I... I know I should be. I know I should run away and report him and all that, but..._

She took another look at Zuko, or to be more accurate, his scar. It looked painful, and too accurate, too well-placed, to be an accident. Whoever burned him did it on purpose. _And why is he here in Ba Sing Se, with his uncle? _

"I'm sorry I can't tell you." Zuko's voice was shaking, and he seemed to be hunched into himself, in shame, both in his ability to tell Jin anything, and the whole damn mess he had landed himself into in the first place.

"It's okay." Jin struggled to keep her voice soft, and rested a hand on Zuko's shoulder, but in reality, her head was whirling. Zuko tensed at the contact, but relaxed after a moment, staring out at the city, which was beginning to become shrouded in twilight. "But I want you to know, Lee." She swallowed. "You'd be surprised how understanding I could be."

"Everyone has their limits." Zuko mumbled, his gaze lowered to his feet. Jin ached for the boy, and secretly wanted nothing more than to sweep him up in a warm embrace. She was almost entirely sure that her theory about him being from the Fire Nation was right – it just seemed to fit. Everything that was strange or off about Zuko could be put down to being from the Fire Nation. _But that doesn't make him evil... _Far from it, at the moment, curled almost into a fetal position, staring down at his feet, still trembling a little, he actually looked a little pathetic. He wasn't a big bad firebending type, Jin just couldn't see it.

_All the same..._ She swallowed. _He's the enemy. He might not look it, but facts are facts._ Jin winced, and lowered her hand from Zuko's shoulder. _His people... Hurt my nation. They're monsters, nothing more!_

_Lee isn't!_ She protested inwardly. _He's a genuinely kind person. He's just trying to make things better for himself. That's why he's here._

_Unless he's a spy._ Her eyes widened. _A spy, sent by the Fire Nation to get an inside feel of Ba Sing Se and-_

_What am I saying?_ She groaned, head in her hands. Zuko noticed the sound, and turned around with a frown, concern evident in his features.

"What's wrong?" He asked, watching as Jin slowly lifted her head from her hands. "Jin?" The girl looked Zuko in the eye once more, and although the light as fading, she could read his expression clearly. There was no anger, no fury written anywhere in his face. All she could see was a sixteen-year-old boy, full of fear and apprehension, lost and alone.

"…Nothing." She lied, tucking her hair behind her ears. "I was just thinking about things, is all." She forced a tiny smile. "Lee, do you wanna jump down? We should while it's still light."

"Yeah. All right." He slowly stood up, extending one hand for Jin. The girl paused for a second, before taking it, something fluttering in her heart as she stood up beside Zuko. Her head still whirled, still ached with confusion and shock and intense surprise. He really wasn't much taller than her at all. _I don't even know if that's a Fire Nation thing or if he is just short..._ He led the way carefully, until finally they had leaped into the dark little room, both squinting in the dark.

"I wish we had a lamp." Jin trailed her hand along the wall, feeling Zuko's hand tense for a second in hers.

"Y-Yeah…" He said uncomfortably. "A lamp or torch would be good at the moment." He let go of her hand, thumping heavily down the stairs. Jin stood still for a moment, realizing what Zuko had unintentionally revealed. _He is a firebender... That's how he said all that stuff about bending... Because he..._

"Jin, are you coming?" Zuko stood at the bottom of the stairs, catching the ghostly outline of her form through the dark.

"Y-Yes…" She breathed, feeling faint. Jin gripped the railing tightly to steady herself, shaking. A firebender. His kind had spent a hundred years invading her nation. Less than ten years ago, they launched a heavy attack on her own home city, almost winning. _And... _She slowly made her way down the stairs. She wasn't afraid of him. She didn't think it was fear. It was something else, blind dread and shock.

"Are you sick?" Zuko asked in alarm as she finally reached the bottom of the stairs, taking her arms. "What's wrong?" She flinched at the touch in the dark, although, thankfully, the boy couldn't see it. Something cold had settled into the pit of her stomach, a lump of ice, refusing to budge. _What is making me feel this way? I like him. A lot. I-I don't see how his past changes who he is now. So then why do I feel like this?_

"I-I… Yes…" She sounded closed to tears, much to Zuko's fright. "I-I'm sorry, I…"

"It's okay." He gently led Jin to the ladder. "Can you make it down? We're kinda stuck if you can't…"

"I-I c-can do it." She nodded, her mouth dry. "I… I'm so sorry…"

"No, I'm sorry." Zuko protested. "If I'd known you were sick, I never would have asked you to come." He climbed down first, holding his arms out in case Jin fell. "I won't look up your dress." He promised, a weak smile on his lips. Jin didn't smile. She made her way down the ladder, rushing out the door before Zuko could take her hand again. "Jin!"

"I-I have to go." She breathed, Zuko hot on her heels, confused and bewildered. "I-I'm so sorry…"

"What's going on?" Zuko grabbed her wrist, watching as she tensed. "Jin, are you sick, or is there something you're not telling me?"

"I…" She gulped. What would Zuko do if she said she knew? He would probably go into a blind panic, thinking that she was going to tell people, especially with the way she had just been acting. He could hurt her, accidentally, or intentionally. "I have to go." She pulled herself away. "I-I can't do this, Lee." _If that is your name._

"What are you talking about?" Zuko's heart leapt into his mouth. He didn't know what she was saying, or going to say, as he had never been in any kind of relationship before, but a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach told him that it wasn't good, not at all.

"This… Us…" She backed away, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. "I… I'm so sorry…" Zuko started to run after her, but Jin had turned and fled, the sound of her frightened footsteps thudding off the pavement until there was nothing but silence – silence apart from the creaking wheels, baying animals, shrieking children and shouting merchants that constantly plagued the overflowing city.

"… Why…" Zuko leaned against the doorframe, sinking onto the cobblestones silently. _Is it because I couldn't say anything? Because she told me she was an earthbender? What did I say, what did I do? What is so damn wrong with me!_

"Dammit!" Zuko cursed loudly, standing. "Agni-dammit, why!" He punched angrily at the wall, his fist flaming. He hit the wall again, and again, and again, until the confusion-driven rage had finally died down, and he leaned against the scorched wall, his forehead and palms pressed against the heated surface, gasping for air. His knees weak, Zuko slid along the wall until he was on his knees, shaking violently. "Why…" He breathed, his eyes stinging. He liked her. He really did. There was something in her smile, the way her eyes lit up, that made something in Zuko's chest twist and flop about in all sorts of wonderful, uncomfortable ways. He liked to spend time with her, as long as it was pleasant, empty conversation and nothing related to his past. He liked it when she hugged him, and even though it seemed so long ago, he liked it when she kissed him too. He had thought that she felt the same way, even stronger, judging from her persistence. The only precious few moments where he felt as though Lee was real, Lee existed, was when he was with Jin.

And, big surprise, it was gone. Just like everything else in his life that had ever made him happy. Yes, she made him happy. He was ready to admit that by now. In fact, he didn't mind saying it. The fact that he liked a girl was nothing to be ashamed of, even if it was some Earth Kingdom peasant. But, for some ungodly reason, she had pushed him away, saying that she couldn't do it, and then running off in tears. Couldn't do what? _What did I do to hurt her?_

Zuko fell back on his hands, staring up at the night sky. _Maybe I should just come clean. Maybe I should tell her why I'm like this. And have her run away screaming and turn me in? It doesn't matter how much she liked me, the fact is, if she knew I was the son of the Fire Lord, she wouldn't want to come near me again. _Gently, the teenager lay down, watching as a few starts started to prick the purple atmosphere. He felt sick, his heart a lead weight in his chest. Although this was nothing like the crushing pain of being rejected by his father, it still hurt. And Jin obviously hurt too, why else would she be crying?

Zuko sat up with a gasp as he felt the moisture on his cheek, thinking that he had been hit by a raindrop, or early spring dew. He raised a finger to his face, and wiped away the water, staring. It steamed, just the tiniest, a tiny furl of vapor dissipating into the cold night air. He blinked, feeling another gather on his face, and wiped it away with his sleeve. He was crying. Zuko gritted his teeth, and rubbed furiously at his good eye, self-loathing growing in his stomach. The Prince of the Fire Nation didn't cry. He didn't show weakness. Prince Zuko was proud and strong.

But it wasn't Prince Zuko that was just dumped, he realized, sniffing. It was Lee. A simple boy, who didn't have the pride, the honour of the royalty. _That doesn't make it okay._ He rubbed at his god eye, which was still leaking moisture. _Stop it, stop it, stop it_! Zuko threaded his fingers through his hair, yanking down hard, biting on his lower lip.

Zuko sat in the alley for a long time, trying to control himself, stuff down the blossoming wave of hurt in his chest, until finally a cold cramp spread to his bones, and with a long, shuddering sigh, the heartbroken boy stood up, and took the first shaky steps that traced back to his cramped, shabby apartment.

* * *

I know this seems OOC but I've seen some really staunch men turned in to crying babies when they get dumped.

Review pleeeasseeee! I'm begging shamelessly, but do I care? No, not really.


	6. Chapter 6

Hello all!

Sorry it's a little late, I've just been super-busy.

Twelve reviews last chapter! Wow, that was so awesome! Thank you all so much, it was what spurred me to work hard on this, despite work and school.

Disclaimer: I own nothing here. Sadness.

* * *

  
"Good evening my nephew." Iroh smiled as the teenager pushed the door open, stepping inside the small apartment, but the soft beam faded as the door was slammed painfully hard. "Zuko?"

"What." Zuko muttered, kicking off his shoes.

"Whatever is wrong?" He looked up from the book he was reading, propped up by his arms on the table. "Things did not go well?"

"No. It didn't." His stomach growled, and the boy stomped towards the pantry, yanking open the wooden door and grabbing a little loaf of bread, about the size of his fist. Iroh sighed deeply, shaking his head.

"I know you must find things hard, my Prince." He said sadly, watching Zuko tear into the bread. "But you mustn't force your frustrations on her-"

"I _didn't."_ Zuko snarled after swallowing his mouthful of bread. "She dumped me." Iroh was still, eyes widening.

"I am so sorry." He said gently, standing up and starting to walk towards his young nephew.

"Don't be." Zuko said roughly through a mouthful of bread, and swallowed, wiping crumbs from his lips. "It's not your fault. It's mine."

"What did you do?" There it was again, that sigh of exasperation, eyes threatening to roll. Zuko's chest surged in anger, and he swallowed the last of the bread, which he had practically inhaled in his hunger, hands clenched into fists.

"I didn't do anything." He growled. "I did nothing at all. She was the one who ran away crying before I could say anything! She's the one with the problem! I didn't do anything to her! I don't know why she ran away, I don't know!"

"All right, Zuko." Iroh pleaded. "Please, control yourself-"

"I'll be damned if I'll control myself, Uncle!" Zuko shouted. "You don't know how this feels, all right! I like her! I really really like her, and she made me happy, for the first Agni-damned time in _so_ long! But it doesn't matter, does it! Because she left! Just like everyone else I ever cared about, she's gone! And it's my fault, I know it! I know it's my fault but I don't know _why!" _Iroh gasped as the candles throughout the room all surged in Zuko's anger, flaring up into flames six feet tall, almost grazing the ceiling. "What's wrong with me! Why does this always happen! The moment everything looks like it possibly might be okay, just when I've relaxed into myself and become slightly happy, fate shoves it all back in my face and rips everything away! I can't take it Uncle, I just can't _take_ it anymore!"

"Zuko." There was no anger, no biting admonishment in Iroh's voice, although it had a firm edge to it, as sharp as a knife. The teenager froze at the strong hands resting on his shoulders, his nails still digging into his palms. "I'm sorry." Iroh continued, his tone growing gentler. "Truly, I am. But being angry about this will not make things any better. It will not make you feel better."

"I-I know…" Zuko muttered, unable to look his uncle in the eye. "But I can't help feeling like this. I mean, where did that come from! Why did she just leave!" With a growl, he wrenched himself free of Iroh, stomping towards his room.

"Zuko!" Iroh protested. "You must-" He winced as the door was slammed shut, and shook his head. Once again, Zuko's anger had gotten the better of him, leaving him bitter and resentful. Iroh wasn't surprised, although it was saddening. How long would it be until his nephew could look at the world without a veil of anger and despair? Iroh shook his head, and turned back towards his book. He started, however, when he noticed that Zuko's anger had managed to set the curtains aflame, and they were still smoldering, burned nearly to the rails. With a wince, Iroh smothered the flame with a wave of his hand, before turning to the closed door, shoulders slumped. He ached for the boy, he really did, and he wished there was something he could say that was both truthful and didn't aggravate Zuko, but nothing came to mind. And besides, he doubted that Zuko would listen to anything he had to say at this point. He was too frustrated, too hurt and angry, to listen to reason. Unfortunately, it was a path well-trodden by the pair at this point. And Iroh found the best thing to do was to wait it out, let Zuko sit by himself and mull over what was ticking inside his skull. Hopefully he would be civil by the morning – if not, it would be a very long day in the tea shop tomorrow.

Heaving a long sigh, Iroh sat back down in front of his book, trying to cast his attention back to the riveting tale at hand.

* * *

Dawn was finally approaching.

Jin shivered, and wrapped her bare arms tighter around her torso. A smudge of light grey could be seen through the thick, dark clouds, signifying that soon she would have to crawl back into bed and feign sleep, lest her mother wonder what she'd been doing up on the roof all night.

_What have I been doing up on the roof all night?_ She sighed, pushing her hair back over her shoulders, which had been blown about by the early morning breeze. _Thinking. That's right._

_He's Fire Nation._ Every time that thought floated through her head, Jin's heart sunk just a little further. _His people... They almost captured Ba Sing Se. They've torn the whole world apart. They're evil, evil people!_

_But Lee isn't like that. _She stared down at her toes. _He's... Nice. I know he has his moments where he can be a real jerk but who doesn't? And after what he's obviously been through, of course he isn't going to be a gentle, friendly person._

_What happened to him?_ That was, at the moment, the heaviest question weighing on Jin's mind. To run away, to resort to hiding out as refugees in Ba Sing Se meant that he must have done something awful against the Fire Nation. Perhaps he was member of their army, and broke away. Or maybe his father was a general or admiral and had his post overthrown by Earth Kingdom rebels. Maybe he was a just curious boy who wanted to explore the world.

Maybe he was a spy.

Jin tensed, biting hard on a knuckle. It was possible. Perhaps he had been sent by the Fire Nation, to get inside the city and take it down internally. After all, they had failed in an attack on the outside…

_No._ She shook her head. _Not Lee. Or, whatever his name is. He's not a spy sent here. If he was, he would be a better actor, and have a better cover story, a whole history of who he was. Unless this is all part of the act... Although I can't see how, it's only made me more confused and uneasy. He's not a spy, or a soldier. He's just a kid. _

_That still doesn't explain why he's here._ She slowly stretched out her back against the tiles, watching the heavy thick clouds, which increased in clarity against the sluggishly lighting sky. _Why he's in Ba Sing Se, pretending to be a refugee..._

_He is still a refugee, in essence._ Jin frowned. _He came here, to avoid persecution, because he was homeless. He's trying to make a fresh start. _

_But he's __**Fire Nation**__. And not only that, he's a bender. He's capable of incredible destruction if he wanted to. And I've seen him get angry. I've seen him snap. He's a dangerous person. But he never hurt me. He never even implied that he would. He's yelled and sworn but he's never done anything violent. And he helped me._ Jin raised her hands, silhouetted against the clouds. _Getting the dirt and glass out of my hands. He was so... Tender._

_I don't want to hate him. I don't hate him. But I'm... Scared. I'm scared and that's what's making me so ashamed. I mean... Why? He's a good person, I know he is, even if he is rough around the edges. It's because I know he's from the Fire Nation. But the blood in his veins and the fact that he shoots flames from his hands doesn't change who he is!_

_... It does. _Tears pricked in Jin's eyes as she sat up, staring what she could at the lightening horizon that peeked above the walls. _As ashamed as I am to say it, it does. I can't look at him; think of him, without thinking about the Fire Nation, everything they've done to people. The refugee's here, they tell their stories, in whispers, when the Dai Li turn their backs. Tearing families apart, burning down whole villages and towns, the relentless killing and wounding of innocent people, ambushing defenseless civilians hiding out in the forests... They are horrible, horrible people. And Lee is one of them. He is, and he isn't. But... I don't know. Maybe he did do some of those horrible deeds, and that's why he's so guilty, why he clams up so tightly. I wish I knew. But it's not something I can ask him. _

_He's not a monster! He never was a monster!_ She wiped at her eyes. _He just... He can't be... He's not one of those people... Even if he keeps saying his past is complicated... That's because he's hiding his whole identity. If he was the kind of person that burned down villages and captured people, he couldn't live here. He couldn't walk and talk amongst the people he directly attacked, his conscience wouldn't let him. _Jin sniffed, shaking her head. _Why? Why does he have to be... Why did I have to find out? Why did I have to realize? I was happy not knowing! Sure, I was confused and frustrated... But this... I never could have imagined he was hiding something this horrible. He was so nice to me. And not a sleazy, suspicious kind of nice when you know they only want one thing. Not like Liang. He didn't really know how but he tried, so hard. Lee was so nice._

_So many horrible things are running through my mind. Who was he? What did he do? Whose side is he really on?_ She groaned. _I don't have enough information, but at the same time, I know too much. I wish I could just erase it from my mind. Just forget that Lee is a firebender, forget his race is a sworn enemy of mine. He makes me happy. So much happier than Liang or Riku. He's honest, despite his silence. I felt... comfortable. _

_And now I've lost that... I've lost that happiness and comfort and now so has he. And it's not his fault, either. He's done nothing wrong. Not to me. It's who he is. Not even who he is, but who his kin and people are. And I wish I could say that it doesn't matter, it doesn't change how I feel, but it does._

_I've lost him..._

Her vision blurred with tears, Jin slowly lifted her head, realizing with a start that the atmosphere around her was much lighter, a dull, grey light beginning to illuminate the environment around her. Dawn was about an hour off, and her mother would be coming up in a couple of minutes to 'wake her up'. Slowly, with the stiffness of the very old and enfeebled, Jin turned and crawled up the few short feet of tiles to the skylight that led into her room. The house her family had a floor in, and had lived in for most of her life, was like most in her street, very narrow and quite tall. Jin's own bedroom was supposed to be an attic, a storage alcove, but as the flat just had two bedrooms and she was the only girl, her father had cut the skylight, building shutters to keep out the rain, and declared it to be her very own room. She was the only one of her friends and relative with such a luxury, and regarded it as a very special privilege, even though it was tiny, dimly lit, leaked when it rained heavily, whistled whenever it blew up a strong gale, and in the winter was sometimes so unbearably cold and wet she had to sleep beside the stove in the large common area. And besides, it was _excellent_ for sneaking in and out without being caught.

Jin treaded carefully onto the three-legged stool she kept in her room for the purpose, reaching out, and pulling the shutters too, careful not to cause too much noise. The room was plunged into darkness, the influence of the weak pre-dawn light immediately obvious. Fortunately, Jin knew every nook and cranny of the tiny room, from the low, sloping ceiling to the uneven floorboards to the few sticks of furniture, and soon she had pushed the stool into the corner, and tip-toed across, knowing which boards were prone to creak, until she reached her bed, a simple straw mattress on a somewhat flimsy wooden base, pushed into the corner where the roof was at its' lowest, to maximise space. Jin rubbed at her eyes again, realizing with a pang that they would be looking all red-rimmed and swollen. She buried her face in the thin pillow as best as she could, pulling the blanket up around her shoulders. The early-morning air had a chilly bite to it, despite the approaching summer, and Jin was glad for the warmth. Trying to force the image of the boy that felt forever lost to her out of her mind, Jin closed her eyes, and struggled to control her breathing, taking deep lungfuls of air in through the nose, exhaling through the mouth.

"Jin honey, wake up." At the sound of her mothers' voice, Jin's eyes snapped open, and she pulled herself into a sitting position. "Be down for breakfast in five minutes." A short hug, and the woman had slipped out of the room, leaving a burning candle on her bedside table. Jin groaned, and drew her knees up to her chest, resting her head on the bent limbs. After a few moments, the girl turned about in her bed, resting her feet on the rough-hewn floorboards as she made to get up. Her eyes, however, found the burning taper, and she stared at the tiny flame, unable to tear her gaze away.

Fire. It had always interested her, for some reason. She had seen its' beauty, in the Firelight Fountain, the fireworks display at New Year and other such festivals, and often in a particularly colourful sunset. But she'd also seen it destroy. She'd born witness to three separate house fires – not her own, thank goodness – throughout her life in the city, heard the roar and felt the intense heat. And although it was terrifying to watch, it was strangely hypnotic, and she'd stood outside for hours on all three occasions, unable to leave the scene, despite the danger.

And this time, she wasn't the only one absorbed by the little flame. A moth, which had probably followed Jin inside, was flapping around the candle flame, the beat of its little grey wings causing it to sputter and sway. The flame was hot on the poor moth, it kept ducking back after getting too close, singeing itself, but the persistent little creature continued to try and get as close to it as it could.

Jin stood up, and shook her head as she shuffled quietly across the room, hunching her shoulders when the need was there, until she'd reached the little wooden rack where her clothes hung. She only had a few outfits, as typical of her class, two dresses she wore for work, and around home, and her green robe which she donned whenever she went out. Although the light was poor, Jin dressed quickly into her dark green work outfit, the one with the ragged hem and patchwork after a run-in with a feral cat. Jin stepped into her work shoes, and turned back to the bed, making for the wide-toothed comb her brother had given her for her birthday, of animal bone inlaid with brass, and was halfway across the room when she noticed the moth. It had darted to close to the flame, she realized sadly, and now the little insect flopped about on her rickety bedside table, its wings aflame. By the time she'd approached it, the little moth had stopped moving, and she thought that it had died, but upon closer inspection, noticed that its legs were still jerking about, and one antenna was waving from side to side. Wincing, Jin slowly lifted up the candle stick, and, closing her eyes, slammed it down upon the burnt moth, grinding the brass object just to make sure that she had killed it.

It was best to put the poor suffering thing out of its misery.

* * *

_Tea, tea, and more bloody tea!_

Zuko felt like flinging the loaded tray to the floor, and stamping on the fragments of porcelain. He was sick of tea! Sick of bending over, sick of stacking cups, sick of washing up, sick of keeping a happy face for the customer, sick of the smell, sick of looking at the same tired faces peer back at him day after day after endless day.

"There." Zuko muttered, slamming the tray heavily down on the small back table in the kitchen. Pao raised an eyebrow at his youngest employee, who wiped at his hands rather roughly on his apron. "What."

"Lee, that is not the way to behave to your employer." Iroh reminded his young nephew, busily straining the leaves from a pot of lychee. "You must show respect." At the word, Zuko stiffened, and Iroh immediately cringed, mentally slapping himself.

"Don't talk to me about that." Zuko muttered, shoving his sleeves past his elbows and dousing his hands in the lukewarm water of the sink, one hand grabbing for the cleaning rag, the other searching for the cups that were submerged in the water. "I've already had a lesson to last a lifetime in respect."

"Perhaps you should take a break." Pao suggested, sensing the boys' deep unease. With the stir that the elderly man was causing in his shop, swelling its' customer base to record numbers, the last thing he wanted to do was make either of them unhappy, and give them a cause to seek greener pastures. "Go take in the air."

"I've had enough of the air." Zuko muttered. "I don't need a break. I just need people to leave me alone." Iroh noticed the rising steam of the water, alarm growing.

"All ready!" He set the pot down with a flourish, ready for Pao to serve. The doleful-looking man took the tray with a nod, shooting Zuko an odd glance before stepping into the front of the shop to serve the pot of lychee.

"I know you're going to say I should apologize." Zuko removed his hands from the water, wiping them with a small towel. Iroh said nothing. "Well?"

"You want me to lecture you?" He put another kettle on to boil. "You know exactly what I would say, and you don't want to hear it."

"You're right. I don't." Zuko stared down at the cups he was in the middle of drying.

"But I still don't believe you should treat Pao with disrespect, because you feel rotten." Iroh lightly admonished the young man. "He is your boss, and pays your wages."

"As pathetic as they are." Zuko growled. "We're little better than slaves, uncle." The elderly man shook his head despairingly, before beginning on the jasmine. "I know this is paradise to you, getting to do what you love for a job. But for me, it's hell. I'm not trying to make you feel guilty or selfish. It's just how I feel."

"And I respect your feelings." Iroh nodded. "But this is our chance to make a fresh start for ourselves, a new name and a new face."

_I'd kill for a new face._ Zuko sighed, one palm flattening against his scarred cheek. He shook his head, and threw down his towel, starting to stack the teacups in the little shelf above his head.

"I know that, uncle." He muttered. "It's just not going so well for me at the moment." He referred to the girl who would normally have come for her daily cup of tea at least an hour ago. "I'm not so sure what to do."

"That feeling is perfectly natural." Iroh said, leaving the teapot to draw for a few moments. "But do not let it consume you, my nephew."

"Yeah, because I have so much going for me right now." Zuko slid the cabinet door shut forcefully, before taking his wooden tray, and heading back to the shop front. Pao was still talking to the lychee people, probably friends of his, and Zuko made sure not to look in his direction, keeping his eyes fixed on the teacups and the tray. Iroh walked past the teenager, bearing a pot of tea and three cups, and Zuko pointedly said nothing, pretending to be too absorbed in his menial work. When he needed to be, Zuko was a prize-winning sulker.

"So you're the genius behind this incredible brew!" Zuko couldn't help but glance up at the man who had loudly greeted Iroh. "The whole city is buzzing about you!" _This can't be good._ Zuko's hands tensed on the tray, and he walked over to the next table, collecting the cups as the party stood up and left, thanking him with quiet murmurs. _What do they want. Agni, I hope it's not another job offer. _His uncle had been sorely tempted by another four days before, but after visiting the shop, declared it a miserable hovel beyond repair, which was something Zuko thought his current place of employment was anyway. "I hope Pao pays you well." _Uh-oh..._

"Good tea is its' own reward." Predictable uncle. Zuko sighed, sneaking the man a glance. Tall and imposing, his fingers dripping with golden rings and flanked by two men in identical uniform, he looked like the kind who was satisfyingly wealthy, and of considerable influence.

"But it doesn't have to be the only reward. How would you like to have your own tea shop?" _Damn, I was right._ Zuko wrinkled his nose. _Uncle can't seriously..._

"M-my own tea shop!" _He is._ "This is a dream come true!" _He's considering it. Well, it sounds like he's already made up his mind. Great. Just freaking brilliant. _

"What's going on here? Are you trying to poach my tea maker?" Pao, upon hearing Iroh's exclamation, had quickly dashed in between the two men, frantic.

"Sorry Pao, but that's business for you..." Zuko tuned out, standing still beside an empty table, eyes fixed on the tea cups. _Another tea shop. Even if it's cleaner and better-built than this grubby little shack, I'll still be miserable. But then again, as of late, I'm always miserable..._

"… A new apartment in the upper ring, the tea shop is yours to do whatever you want." Zuko's interest was again peaked, and he turned his head, not even pretending to work anymore. "Complete creative freedom."

"I even get to name it?" Iroh sounded almost beside himself in joy, Zuko noticed, like a child at the Fire Festival. _A tea shop in the upper ring, all to himself... No wonder he's so excited_…

"I wouldn't have it any other way." The rich man promised, much to the despair of Pao, Zuko noticed.

"Senior executive assistant manager?" Pao said pleadingly, hopelessly, but Iroh merely pressed the empty teapot into his ex-employers' chest, beaming. With a groan, the tea shop owner slumped away. Zuko sighed deeply, and straightened up, clutching the wooden tray littered with tea cups.

"Did you hear that, nephew?" Iroh exclaimed as Zuko walked past, joy quivering in his voice. "This man wants to give us our own tea shop in the upper ring of the city!"

"That's right young man, your life is about to change for the better!" Zuko rolled his eyes at the sound of his new bosses' voice, his knuckles whitening.

"I'll try to contain my joy." Zuko threw the tray down on the empty table, his sulk deepening despite the news. Iroh sighed as his nephew walked into the street, slamming the front door behind himself.

_Ugh, I just can't be bothered with it._ Zuko leaned against the side of the shop, arms crossed. He was still in a horrible mood from last night, he knew, and Jin's failure to show up at her normal time – expected, but still enough to sting – had only made him feel worse. He stared fixedly at the ground, sighing, but the sound of something crinkling, fluttering, had caught his air. Zuko blinked, and looked up to see a small flyer swirling through the air, caught by the wind. His curiosity sparked, Zuko snatched the paper before it could float away, raising it to his eye level. He stared at the main picture, and froze, eyes widening as he scanned the lettering, his heart racing.

_The Avatar.

* * *

_Okay, hopefully that's given you a bit of context in terms of continuity and whatnot.

If my dialogue was out a little, then sorry.

I'm not intending to like, rewrite the next few episodes, if that's what your wondering. I just included that because, like I said, I wanted to give you a bit of context and that fitted.

Thanks for reading, now all you have to do is give me a few words on what you think. It's more appreciated than you could ever imagine :D


	7. Chapter 7

Holy heck more kinda canonness! Hooray!

I must say, I'm quite annoyed though... 4 reviews... And I KNOW it's been read by over a hundred individuals, so yeah... You know... Come on guys...

Disclaimer: I own nothing here so don't sue me or else I'll countersue even though I live in New Zealand and you can't do that here. Hoo-rah.

* * *

"All right girls, round it up!"

Jin breathed a deep, exhausted sigh of relief as the deep, bellowing voice of Mrs. Chan rang through the crowded laundry, managing to permeate every corner, despite the near-deafening clanging, hissing, and steaming of coal-driven machinery. With one final turn of the box mangle, Jin and her co-worker Lien were finally able to slump against the wooden contraption, panting with exhaustion.

"I... Hate... Mangling." Jin groaned weakly, her arms as weak as straw and shoulders burning. She rested her elbows against the wooden surface, relieving some pressure from her aching feet as Lien extracted the nearly dry robe from the folds of the clean sheet.

"_Tell_ me about it." The girl, a year younger than Jin, folded the pale green robe and set it into the wicker basket. "I think my shoulders have seized up..."

"Mine too..." Jin touched the tender muscles gently, wincing. It was hell, struggling to keep the machine, weighted down with rocks, constantly turning, pressing the water from the fine clothing with sheer force, force driven by the two teenage girls. "You'd think they'd come up with an easier way to get the water out..."

"Easier, but not cheaper." Lien reminded her friend, taking one handle of the basket. "Come on, let's do this and get out of here."

"No kidding." Jin wiped her bangs, which had been plastered to her forehead by sweat and steam, back from her face, biting her lip as she bent over to help pick up the basket. _Oww..._ "At least we don't have to do it for another week."

"Hopefully more, if Mrs. Chan decides to punish someone." She referred to the matronly dragon of a supervisor, who ruled the dimly-lit, steaming laundry with an iron fist. "Ironing tomorrow... Can't wait."

"Y-Yeah..." The pair let the basket drop beside the oven, a large, intensely heated room that would evaporate any remaining trace of water. Jin rubbed at her eyes, which stung from a mixture of both intense tiredness and the acrid odour of salts, soaps, and other cleaning chemicals that constantly hung in the air. The pair joined the trickle of women who were making their way out of the searing room, some as young as eleven or twelve, others bowed with age, their faces set in hard lines, that told of a lifetime of constant toil, and servitude. Of an existence revolving around a dark, steamy room, a growing cluster of ragged children, and a dilapidated house that was never clean.

Instinctively, Jin shivered. _I'm not going to do this forever._ She reminded herself, eyes fixed on her worn shoes. _I'm going to leave the laundry and home and even Ba Sing Se. _

_... Sometime._ Eyes half-lowered, she slumped her shoulders, feeling the dull ache of exhaustion slowly enfolding her head and limbs. Oh, she was so tired...

"Name?" The snappish voice sounded, and Jin jumped, raising her gaze to focus on the woman behind the desk.

"Uh... Jin." She withdrew her small card, embossed with her name and status. In return, a small handful of copper coins were dropped into her outstretched hand, and her name was stamped in a large book.

"Next!" Jin tightened her hand over the small amount of money, her days' wages, and headed out of the large, crowded office, pushing through the milling crowd of women, and into the warm midday sun.

"Mmm, that's nice." Lien smiled, stretching her arms in a long yawn, her back arched.

"Yeah..." Jin slid the money into the small pouch concealed in her dress. "It is..."

"You're so quiet today." Her co-worker frowned. "Actually, you've been quiet all week. Is it still about that Lee boy?"

"What?" Jin blinked. "Oh... Him..." She gulped, pushing her unruly hair out of her face once more. "Kind of, yeah."

"Ah, he sounds like a right idiot." Lien said easily. "Honestly, what gives him the right to yell at you and storm off when you've been nothing but nice? You can do way better? What about Riku? He's cute! And I heard he got an apprenticeship under an accountant in the middle ring! You can't get much-"

"No." Jin said sharply. "I don't _want_..." She let out a long, frustrated sigh. "Well, to be honest, I don't even know what I want anymore. But I don't want Riku. Or Liang, or anyone else like that. I want..."

"What?" Lien pressed her elder friend further, interested. "What do you want, miss picky?"

"Something else..." Jin rubbed tiredly at her eyes. "Something more, something different... Something..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "Like I said, I don't know." Jin turned away from the girl. "I have to go home... I'm exhausted..."

"All right." Lien frowned. "Look, you should come out tonight. A group of us are going to the Pit, you should go. Might find someone else to take your mind off things..."

"Thanks, but no." Jin murmured. "I just... I want to go home, sorry. I've got a lot on my mind..."

"Okay then." Lien shrugged. "See you tomorrow."

"Crack of dawn, as always." Jin forced a smile, before pushing her way out of the crowded square, weaving her way through the clusters of people down the crowded street. She was as tired as hell, but it was a constant sensation she had put up with years, and not the reason why she had wanted to spend her free time curled up in her room. The truth was, the day had been an exhausting turmoil. It seemed that every moment, Lee was on her mind. She just could not stop thinking about him. The angry, yet strangely nervous boy, who had looked at her, treated her, as no one else had, with an odd kind of tense affection, as though he was afraid of his own actions. It was now when she finally realised why he acted in such a manner. He was from the Fire Nation. And although the thought that still disturbing, it hadn't filled her with the intense panic it had last night. So much.

_That doesn't make it any less awful._ Jin reminded herself. _He's still..._

_I don't even know!_ The girl groaned. _I don't know what kind of person he was. He could have been the nicest boy ever; he could have been a rebel in his own country. He could be on our side. Or he could be a monster. He could be one of the ones who have caused this pain and damage. I wish I knew. I need to! I need to know, I can't keep driving myself insane like this._

_Oh, come now._ She groaned. _What am I going to do, walk in and ask him? Hey Lee, Fire Nation huh? What did you do to wind up here? Get real, he would never answer that. He'd... Well, I don't know what he would do... But I'm sure it wouldn't be pretty..._

_I'm tired._ Jin rubbed at her eyes. Thankfully, she was less than five minutes away from her house. She turned the corner, making her way onto the narrow side-street she resided with her family in. She passed an elderly man she knew, giving him a quick wave and a smile, and before long she was standing outside of her house. She pushed open the door, wincing as it creaked, the warped wood sagging on rusty hinges, and made her way up the slanted staircase, resting for a moment on the landing. _Hope Ma doesn't want me to clean the place..._ She started to walk again, making her way to the modest second floor dwelling her family rented, her feet starting to drag. After what seemed an age, Jin turned the wobbling brass handle, slipping into the tiny, dimly-lit flat.

"Hello dear." Her mother Shan looked up from the bubbling crock-pot, hey eyes crinkling in a smile. "How was work?"

"Okay." Jin mumbled, sliding out of her shoes. "I had box-mangling today... I'm tired..." She rubbed at her eyes for added effect, hoping her mother had gotten the point. _Don't make me work. I can't._ She withdrew her slim wages from the inside of her dress, lifting the lid on the small clay pot on the high shelf, where the income Jin, her brother, and her father earned was stashed. Her mother sighed sadly as Jin parted with three-quarters of her hard-earned wages without the merest grumble or moan, as she had done almost daily for over four years.

"Have something to eat." Shan ladled a small amount of stew into a bowl for her only daughter. "Rest your feet for a bit."

"Gladly." Jin sat down with a thump, her forehead quickly finding contact with the rough-hewn table. "My arms... Hurt... So much."

"I know honey..." The bowl was set down with a spoon, which Jin accepted gratefully, her stomach growling. "I'm sorry..."

"Ma, don't be sorry." Jin pleaded. "It's okay. I don't mind. It's better than sweeping up animal filth or scrubbing floors. And with all of these refugees coming rapidly, jobs are getting hard to come by."

"I know, I know." She sat down beside her daughter, with a small pile of potatoes and a small knife. "But still, you work so hard... it's not fair."

"Beats staying at home cooking and cleaning all day." Jin forced a smile, which her mother weakly returned. "And all of that darning..." She referred to the wicker basket beside the stove, filled with torn clothing from busy friends and neighbours, which her mother mended for a few coins.

"Yes, yes." Shan started to cut up the freshly-peeled potato. "And looking after those scamps Chang and Hai when they bother to come home." She referred to Jins' two youngest brothers. "Dirty scoundrels, tracking mud all about the place _just_ as I've finished scrubbing." Jin giggled. "Don't laugh, young lady, you were just as horrible. Nana Heng said that you were the filthiest little girl she'd ever seen, always covered in mud."

"That was Jiro, Ma, always dragging me off to play with his friends. And besides, I could always clean myself up in an instant with earth bending." Jin pushed away her empty bowl, and stood up, arching her back in a stretch. "I'm _so_ tired. I think I might lie down for a-"

"Before you do," Jin sighed as her mother quickly interjected, the girl quickly filling with a very real urge to kick the furniture. "There's a load of washing outside. Do you think you could bring it in? Mrs. Cheung on second said she has uniforms to wash and wants the line this afternoon."

"Yes, Ma." Jin gave a long-suffering sigh, and turned towards the doorway. "Right away."

"Thank you dear." Her mother smiled. "Oh, and after that," Jin's hand tightened on the doorknob, knuckles whitening. "Can you finish up on these potatoes? Qing-Yuan wants her clothes mended by sundown."

"_Yes,_ okay." Jin slammed the door before her mother could heap any more chores on her, stamping her feet as she thundered back down to the ground floor. It was stupid, she knew, and childish, especially since her mother couldn't actually hear her, and it was a drain on the last remnants of her energy, but Jin was too angry to care. She'd _just_ complained that she'd been working that stupid machine for six hours with one short break, and was left exhausted and in pain. Couldn't she even get a few hours respite? Jin knew, deep down, that she was being unreasonable, her mother couldn't be expected to keep on top of keeping the house clean, watching the two younger boys, and finish her hefty load of needlework, and being both the only girl, and the one with the shortest work hours, any of the housework left over fell on her shoulders. She'd been given the speech more times than she could count about tough times and everybody having to pull together, but to her, it seemed as though the 'tough times' had been occurring her entire life. _I can't wait for it to end._

_But it won't._ Jin stepped into the small yard, which was little more than a patch of dirt, edged with herb plants, and containing a washing line, an outhouse, and a tiny coal shed. That was what was so crushing. She was a slave to the family household, and would be, until she was married. And then she would become a slave to her husbands' home, forced to cook and clean for her own children while doing whatever odd jobs she could for a few copper coins. It was the sad fate that swallowed up her mother, her grandmothers, aunts, cousins, and, already, some of her friends.

_It's terrifying._ Jin swallowed, unpegging the threadbare sheet from the line. _I can't let that happen to me. It won't happen to me, I'll make sure. But... The only other option is to be a broke spinster. And I don't want to be alone. I want to get married and have kids, so badly, but I don't want to be some working-class housewife who works her fingers to the bone every day for her entire life! There has to be something else. Some way out. Some way... up._

_I could be like cousin Lifen. Marry above my class. She prettied herself up enough to grab a university student and now she lives in the Middle Ring. I'm not exactly ugly..._

_... But that is so shallow!_ Jin folded the shirt she took down in half before throwing it into the basket. _And... Cheap. I don't want someone like that. I want..._

_Someone who appreciates me. Someone I can be honest to, someone that won't imprison me in my home with an army of children. Someone who is different. Someone who hasn't resigned themselves to this stupid city. Someone who wants out. Someone with experience, who is actually interested in my mind and personality, not what's under my dress. Someone..._

_... Like Lee._

Jin sat down onto the ground, winding the cloth of the underdress around her hands. Her eyes stung, and she blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the tears. _Stop it! _She commanded herself. _I can't keep agonizing over him. I have to put Lee out of my mind and keep him out. I have things to do, a life to lead, as dreary as it may be... _She sniffed, and stood up again. _I mean, seriously. Fire Nation? Do I want to go there? Do I want to actually risk it? Do I want to go through that danger?_

Her heart thudded in her chest.

_...I don't know._

* * *

"I'm taking the first load of luggage up to our new apartment, Prince Zuko." Iroh stood in the doorway of his nephews' room. "Would you like to come and take a look at our new home?"

"No." Zuko muttered evenly, lying on his futon with his arms folded behind his head. "I'm fine here."

"Suit yourself." Iroh sighed. "But please, my nephew, I beg you. Do not do anything stupid."

"Stupid?" Zuko sat up. "Define stupid for me Uncle, please." There was a low bite to Zuko's voice, an undercurrent of violent anger.

"Finding the Avatar or his bison." Iroh said softly. As he predicted, Zuko stood up, fuming.

"That is _not_ stupid, Uncle!" Zuko snapped. "I have struggled for years to capture him! Fulfilling my destiny is not stupid! How dare you say that!" Iroh's eyes widened, the elderly man alarmed.

"Zuko-"

"You wanna know what's stupid?" The teenagerchallenged, taking a step towards Iroh. "Giving up on everything! Resigning yourself to this prison and putting your trust in these peasants! Opening a damn tea-shop when you should be trying to regain your honour! Throwing aside everything you ever worked for and letting go! That's what's stupid, Uncle!" Iroh froze. Usually Zuko regarded him with respect (albeit to a varying degree), even when he was angry, but his nephew had, essentially, just called him stupid in his intense frustration.

"I am sorry you feel that way." Iroh said simply, turning away. He had a niggling suspicion that this had more than the new tea-shop, much more. "But yes, perhaps I have given up. The Fire Nation has nothing more for me, nephew. There is no longer anyone in that country that I care for." He took a deep breath. "Save for you."

"Look, that's not true!" Zuko shot back. "What about your family, huh?"

"_You_ are my family, Prince Zuko." Iroh said softly. "I love you like a so-"

"What have I told you about saying that!" Zuko's voice caught. "I _have_ a father!"

"The man who is responsible for all of the pain and suffering you have endured? The tyrant who only wants you home so he can throw you in prison? The person who-"

"Oh, all _right!"_ Zuko cut his uncle off. "What's your _point?"_ Iroh turned back to regard the teenager who, he quickly noticed, was shaking.

"What do you think." Iroh said. "What do you think I am trying to tell you?"

"That I should swallow this useless slop of a future and become a stupid tea-boy for the rest of my life?" Zuko snarled. "It's not going to happen!"

"Then you haven't listened to a word I have said." Iroh shook his head sadly. "I have to go, my nephew, I need to be there to receive the keys. Please, I beg of you, don't do anything compromising." He chose his words carefully. "I will be grievously disappointed if you do."

"Fine then." Zuko crossed his arms, looking every bit the sulking teenager who had just been grounded or scolded by a parent. "I won't leave the apartment. Happy?"

"Yes." Iroh shook his head at his melodramatic nephew. "I will see you shortly." He nodded, and gently shut Zuko's bedroom door. The moment he did, the teenager sighed, and collapsed into his bed, burying his face in the pillow. He screamed, in frustration, the sound muffled by the bedding, before rolling over onto his back, his gaze fixed once more on the ceiling.

_What is wrong with Uncle? Does he not understand or something? How can he not understand? What is wrong with him? This is my chance! He may be happy living here, but I'm not. And I never will be. I tried to, I did, with Jin, I tried to make an effort to assimilate myself with these people, and it all just got thrown back in my face. It's hopeless. And now the Avatar is in Ba Sing Se. And not only that, he's here without a means of escaping, not without that flying bison. This is my last shot. It's my last shot, and I'm taking it. _Zuko sat up, his mind racing.

_I need the bison. That's the way to get to the Avatar. And hopefully to get to him alone. _He cast his mind back to the flyer, which his Uncle had thrown out, much to his chagrin. It said that the bison had been lost in the desert and was in Ba Sing Se. _I'm betting that if anyone knows where the bison is, it's the Dai Li. I wouldn't be surprised if they were behind the whole thing. _He'd heard some terrifying stories of what the Dai Li did to their own people, the brainwashing and kidnapping. Sometimes, whole families disappeared, and didn't show up again for months, if at all. _I need to corner one and find out where they're keeping it._ Hardened with resolve, Zuko frowned, thinking.

_I can't let Uncle know, of course, not right away, he would try to stop me. And I don't need that. And besides, if I want to get one alone, then it's going to have to be in a very isolated place. Hmm... I'll wait for night to fall. _Zuko nodded. _Late night. And that way, I can also operate under the cover of darkness._

_I'll get you this time, Avatar._ Zuko crawled over to the small wooden chest, where he kept his meagre possessions. He lifted the lid and pushed aside the junk he insisted on keeping, his fingertips brushing the cream Jin had given him, cream that actually worked pretty well, and he still used. His heart skipped a beat, but Zuko pushed the sensation away, and instead, lifted the false bottom of the little trunk, to expose his deepest, darkest secret, that only one other soul in the world – his prey – knew about.

The blue mask glared back at him, the deep frown and curved tusks earning a shiver from the teenage boy. Zuko forced it down with a swallow, and lifted the mask, gently running his fingertips over the smooth, cerulean surface.

_Time for the Blue Spirit to make a final appearance.

* * *

_ZOMG DRAMAZZZZZ

Okay sorry, I'm over that. But seriously guys, please, just a few words, you know, show your appreciation and all that. I'll never say 'I'M NOT UPDATING TIL I GET 10 REVIEWS' or something cos that's just sad, but, yeah, I would appreciate the support and feedback.


	8. Chapter 8

Ahahaha, sorry it's so late...

But in return, it's nice and long, so yay!

15 REVIEWS! OMG! KEEP IT UP GUYS THAT WAS AWESOME!

* * *

"Hey you." The voice sounded from the doorway, permeated with a smirk, jarring Jin out of her deep, exhausted sleep. "Get up, sleepyhead."

"Jiro, go away." The girl mumbled, her face buried in the thin pillow. Rather than leave like she had wanted him to, her brother merely chuckled, and walked towards the bed, squinting in the dying light. "I mean it."

"Fine then." Jiro shrugged. "Ma just wanted me to call you for dinner, but if you're not hungry, I guess I can-"

"I'm up!" Jin jumped out of the bed she had collapsed on five hours before, rubbing at her eyes. "Don't you _dare_ eat my share, pig." She punched her twin in the arm for effect, before walking out of her tiny bedroom.

"Hey, that hurt!" Jiro frowned, but followed the girl into the family room. "Why were you asleep all afternoon anyway?"

"Because." Jin said shortly, pausing in the narrow, dark passage. "I didn't sleep last night."

"Why not?" The teenager frowned. "Oh man, you went out and didn't invite me? Or did you go and see someone, if you know what I-"

"Yes, I know what you mean." Jin rolled her eyes. "And no, I didn't. I just lay awake all night unable to sleep, okay? I got a lot on my mind." _Don't think about him, don't think about him..._

_Too late._ She winced, before stepping into the warm, brightly-lit room, her heart sinking further as Lee's face flashed across her mind. _Dammit._

"Have a good sleep Jin?" Her father asked kindly from his place at the low table. Jin nodded wordlessly, forcing a smile before kneeling down in front of her place setting, between her mother, and her youngest brother, Chang.

"Smells great, Ma." Jin accepted the rice and vegetables gratefully, her stomach growling all over again, despite the fact she had a pretty substantial meal six hours ago. _Lee was right, I do have a big appetite._

_Dammit, not again!_

"Uh-huh." Chang had already devoured half of his share, the six-year-old getting more on his face and clothes than in his mouth in his hurry. "'S good."

"Chang, slow down!" Jin scolded her sibling. "Did you not get back for lunch or something?"

"Nope, he was too busy playing with his friends." Hai smirked. "He was an hour later than he said he would be and Ma said he wasn't getting anything 'til dinner."

"Well, Chang knows how I feel about him roaming about by himself for too long." Shan said reprovingly. "That goes for you too, Hai. There's too many cutthroats and pickpockets about. I was worried sick when you didn't come home on time."

"Calm down, Ma." Jiro argued. "Jin and I used to be gone all day and we never got into any trouble." He shared a quick wink with Jin. _Trouble she knew about, anyway._ Jin took a sip of her tea. Jasmine. _Mushi's favourite, he brews it so well..._

_Jin, stop it!_

"All the same." Shan looked sternly at her children. "Sometimes I feel as though I give you kids too much rope."

"Aw, Ma, no!" Chang pouted, his food finished. "Don't say that! There's no way I'm sittin' at home all day."

"Me neither." Hai cut in. "It's _boring_! We can't even play in the back yard!"

"It's safer, Hai." Shan eyed her middle son. "You kids, you honestly don't know how lucky you are, to have what we have. A roof, food, beds, and our family in one piece. That's more than what many people have in this city."

"I know, I know." Hai gave a long-suffering sigh. "But, I mean, what else am I going to do all day?"

"Perhaps it is time to think about going to work?" The family stilled at the sound of Renshu's voice, Hai paling at his fathers' suggestion.

"Renshu, no." Shan admonished her husband. "He just turned twelve a month ago, give him time."

"Jiro was at work by eleven." The man argued. "Jin started two weeks after her twelfth birthday. We could use the money Shan."

"We're getting along just fine." Shan responded, glaring at her husband across the table. The four children looked away nervously, caught in the middle. Jiro placed a hand on Hai's shoulder, squeezing gently. "Hai doesn't need to work."

"I don't mean all the time." Renshu said patiently. "And I don't mean heavy labour. I spoke to my brother-in-law Shirong today. He's looking for an apprentice for his wood-turning business."

"Hey wait a sec!" Jiro argued. "Why can't I do that! C'mon, I shovel coal all day!"

"No, you shovel it and then bend when no one else is looking." Jin corrected her brother, who just shot her an evil glare. "What, it's true."

"Because, Jiro." The man sighed at his eldest surviving son. "Being a craftsman requires patience and sensitivity, both of which you lack."

"... Does Uncle Shirong really want me?" Hai said slowly.

"You know Uncle Shirong and Aunt Lan had no children of their own. The only other male relatives your age are all as rambunctious and loud as Jiro." The teenager frowned at his father. "They don't have your tolerance and focus."

"... Shirong does do well for himself." Shan was weakening. "Some of his spindles are even sold in the upper ring."

"Exactly." Renshu said. "This is the opportunity for him to make something of himself. When Shirong passes, Hai will take over the business and lead a life of great prosperity."

"Before you make a decision, maybe you should ask Hai." Jin quietly reminded her parents. The family turned their attention to the prepubescent boy, who was staring very thoughtfully at his empty dish, which was actually made by Uncle Shirong himself. "Hai?" She ventured. "What do you think?"

"... How often would I be working?" He asked, still looking at the bowl. "And for how long?"

"Three times a week." The middle-aged man replied. "The hours that the shop is open for business, maybe longer. It is a lot." Renshu admitted. "But you won't be working every day. And it's not hard labour."

"Is it even paid?" Jiro butted in. "I didn't think apprentices got paid. And if they do, it's a pittance."

"He won't get paid for the first year." His father said. "But he'll be learning a skill, which is much more valuable than a years' wage in the long run."

"All that work without pay?" Hai complained. "Not even a little bit?"

"Ask if you can take what you make home." Jin suggested. "Hai, take it. You have no idea how miserable and depressing unskilled labour is."

"Yeah." Jiro agreed. "You wake up _way_ too early in the morning, you never get a break, your back hurts, your arms hurt, your legs hurt, you get paid almost nothing..."

"... Your boss is a complete cow." Jin continued. "You come home so exhausted you can't do anything for the rest of the day, you get sick from all the illnesses people spread, you-"

"The pair of you _stop_ it!" Shan bumped her fist on the table. The twins jumped. "I will _not_ have that talk at the table."

"But Ma, it's true!" Jiro argued. "It's hell! Hai should know that before he makes a mistake and throws away his chance."

"I'm going to fill the coal bucket." The woman stood up abruptly, seizing the large metal pail from beside the stove. The other five were silent as Shan marched out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

"That was very disrespectful of you." Renshu scolded.

"Yeah, Jiro." Jin agreed. "You-"

"No, you too Jin." The girl fell silent, her heart sinking. "Do either of you understand how much it hurts your mother to see the two of you working so hard? Do you know how much pain she went through, sending you to work when you were so young?"

"It's not her fault, though." Jin argued. "We had no money, and Chang was on the way. We had to go to work."

"Yes, but that's not how she sees it." Renshu shook his head. "Even though you are sixteen, you two are still her babies. She still finds it her job to raise and protect the pair of you. She feels as though she failed."

"She hasn't." Jin was stricken. "How can she think that? Everyone sends their kids to work now, you have to. If she failed, then every mother in Ba Sing Se has failed. She's not a failure."

"Yeah, she's the best mother ever." Jiro agreed.

"Have you ever said that to her?" Renshu pointed out, pushing his bowl away. Jin and Jiro both fell very silent, unable to raise their gaze from the tabletop.

"I... Always thought it was a given." Jiro said. "Not something you had to tell her."

"I thought she knew, too." Jin folded her hands in her lap. "She did a great job raising us. How can she think otherwise?"

"That's what I try to tell her, but she won't listen." Renshu said solemnly. "She's stubborn and firm in her beliefs."

"Well, she has to stop believing she failed." Jin said firmly, standing up and beginning to collect the dishes. "Jiro's not in trouble with the Dai Li, and I'm not pregnant. That's something to be proud of, for a start."

"I'm not in trouble because I don't get caught." Jiro said proudly, but his expression quickly grew serious. "You're right though. We're pretty well-behaved for kids our age."

"You certainly are." Renshu smiled. "I am proud of the pair of you. You are both growing up and becoming so mature and considerate."

"Glad to hear it, Dad." Jiro beamed. "And hey, because we are such excellent, mature, law-abiding citizens that you are so proud of, can Jin and I go out?"

"What?" Both Renshu and Jin frowned, the girl sitting back down on her cushion, dishes neatly stacked beside the washing basin.

"You know, out." Jiro said. "You just said how well-behaved we are, come on. Jin's gone all funny for some reason, she needs a night out. And I got a bonus today for working extra hard. Please Dad?"

"... Oh, all right." He sighed. "The both of you can get out of my hair for a few hours I suppose." Renshu looked sternly at the pair of them "But I want you home by eleven. Not a moment later. You both have work tomorrow."

"Yes! Thanks Dad!" Jiro jumped up from the table, making a dash for his room. "C'mon Jin, you got fifteen minutes to get ready." Reluctantly, Jin got up off the table, and followed her brother.

"What is this even about?" Jin frowned when they were in the passage. "Jiro, I don't _want_ to go out."

"Sure you do." Jiro said easily, pausing outside the small bedroom he shared with his two brothers. "Come on, it'll be fun. We'll go to the Pit, meet up with some friends, have a few drinks, a few laughs... Look, you were up all night angsting about _something_. You need to de-stress and relax. Take your mind off things."

"... Well..." Jin bit her lip. True, she felt as though everything was reminding her about Lee, and it was only making her feel worse as time wore on. Maybe it was what she needed. Besides, it couldn't _really_ hurt, could it? "Oh, all right." She finally sighed after a full minute of consideration.

"Awesome!" Jiro beamed. "Now go change, and I'll see you in ten minutes. Be ready."

"You got it." Jin forced a smile, before heading towards her own bedroom.

_Ooh, I hope I don't end up regretting this..._

* * *

"I thought you were too tired?" Jin jumped. Lien stood a few feet away, her hands on her hips with one eyebrow raised. "You didn't have to lie to me, Jin."

"I didn't." Jin protested weakly. "I didn't wanna come, but Jiro convinced me." At the mention of her twin brother, Lien perked up, one hand self-consciously rising to her hair.

"Jiro?" Lien carefully tucked her hair behind her ears. "Where is he?" She sat down beside Jin on the cushioned bench that ringed the questionable bar.

"Went to get a couple of glasses of maotai." Jin blew at her bangs, arms crossed. "I bet he ran into his stupid friends." She leaned a little further back, slouching in the bench. "Either that or he forgot where I was." It was another possibility. The Pit, as it was affectionately dubbed by its' mainly young clientele, was a tavern. Built, as its' name suggested, underground, the walls, floor, and ceiling were all made of earth. Due to the constricting jurisdiction of the Dai Li, it was the only tavern in that part of the city which hadn't been shut down due to drunken fights and riots. As a result, it was nearly always bursting at the seams, crammed with sometime hundreds of people. The administration of Ba Sing Se had little concern for the entertainment for their lower-class citizens, and as a result, the Pit, or similar establishments, dark, seedy saloons and pubs, were the all that the people who weren't chained to a demanding household really had to do. They didn't exactly have much appreciation for fine arts, or even sports.

"Well, look who it is." Jiro said grandly as he approached the two girls.

"Thanks." Jin accepted the drink sullenly. Jiro raised an eyebrow. "What? I said thank you."

"So she's just as miserable at home, huh?" Lien frowned. "Seriously Jin, what's going on? If this is about Lee, It-"

"It's what_."_ Jin muttered testily.

"It's stupid!" Lien waved her arms. "I mean, come on! You can't mope around like this. Look around you, girl! What do you see?"

"... Dozens of kids drinking cheap booze because they have nothing better to do?" Jiro chuckled.

"Nooo..." The girl sighed in frustration. "Man-meat, Jin! C'mon, don't hang yourself up on that loser and get in there!"

"Lee isn't a loser." Jin protested weakly. "He's..." She trailed off. "Look. Maybe this isn't such a good idea." She stood, and made to leave, but was stopped by her brother. "Jiro, go away."

"No way. Lien's right. I dragged you out here for a _reason_ sis. You used to knock back the drink faster than Nianzu on a good night. What happened?"

"Nothing happened." Jin wrenched herself free of the male, pressing her half-finished drink into his hand. "I just don't _feel_ like it, Jiro, okay? Not tonight, Not.." She sighed. "Look, forget it. I'm going home. Have fun with Lien, she's glad to see you here."

"Jin-"

"I'll see the both of you later." She marched away from the pair, pushing her way through the crowd of bodies. _I knew this was a bad idea._ Jin scowled. _This isn't something I want to drink and dance away, no matter how what Jiro claims. I can't pretend it's not happening! I can't_-

"Oof!" She gasped as she bumped into a tall figure, not looking where she was going.

"Watch it, would you?" He snapped, his drink slopped all the over his clothing.

"Sorry." Jin pushed her hair out of her eyes, turning away. Catching a glimpse of her face, the teenager started.

"Jin, wait!" She paused, eyes widening as she took in the features of the boy she had unwittingly bumped into.

"Riku?" She blinked. "I... I haven't seen you in ages." She forced a smile. "How have you been?"

"Good." His tone instantly changed, a smile spreading across his features. Riku pushed his elbow-length braid back behind his shoulders, leaving it to trail down his back. "Yourself?"

"... Good." Jin lied, smoothing away creases in her dress that didn't exist.

"I haven't seen you in here for a while." Riku's eyes glittered. "Can I get you something to drink?" Jin paused.

"I suppose one wouldn't hurt." She didn't glance over at her brother and work colleague, who she suspected were eyeing her up through the milling crowd of people.

"Great." Riku grabbed at Jins' elbow, directing the girl towards the drink counter. Jin followed silently, obediently. "So how have you been?"

"Good." Jin repeated, another forced smile stretching her lips. "What about yourself? I heard about your new job."

"Oh, yeah." Riku nodded. "That's going well. I even got given a bonus today, I was that good."

"Congratulations!" Jin's smile grew, slowly becoming less fake. "You must be so happy to get a paying apprenticeship in the middle ring."

"Oh, I am." Riku smirked, gesturing towards a barmaid. "What about you? Still in the old laundry?" Jin nodded silently. "Pity. Like I said, you're too pretty for that line of work, Jin."

"It's not forever." Jin defended her occupation testily. "And it's a lot better than other stuff out there. Not all of us can get a cushy job like you."

"Hey, calm down." Riku raised an eyebrow. "I was just sayin'." He shook his head. "Still as feisty and defensive as ever." Two glasses of maotai were set down on the table. "Not much has changed, has it, Jin?"

"It's only been a couple of months." Jin pointed out. _And I suppose we didn't end on the worst of terms... Although it was still uncomfortable. _She took a sip of her drink.

"True." Riku mused. "I guess it just feels like longer." He leaned against the counter, his head increasingly close to Jin's. "What are you doing tonight then, hm?"

"Nothing." Jin said truthfully. "No plans." She set down her vessel silently. "Why?"

"Just curious." The teenage boy shrugged. "You hardly ever drop by here no more, I wanted to make the most of the night, is all." Jin took another mouthful of maotai, shuffling her feet slightly. "Look... The way we broke it off... Was pretty messy."

"It could have been better." Jin agreed. "I said some angry things... I didn't mean them."

"No, I deserved them." He said humbly. "The mess with... I am sorry for that. Really."

"I know you are." Jin set down her glass again. "Don't apologize for that. So are you still seeing Liu?"

"Haven't for almost a month." Riku informed the girl. "What about you, huh? Seeing anyone special?"

"I was." Jin stared into her drink. "Lee. He just moved here a few weeks ago."

"Ugh, more refugees." Riku sneered. "Just what we need."

"Think about why they're here." Jin argued. "They have nowhere else to go. This is the last city left that's not..." She trailed off, the remainder of the sentence hanging in midair, unspoken and illegal. "... I had to call it off, yesterday." Jin murmured glumly. "It wouldn't have worked out."

"Come to drown your sorrows?" Riku smirked as Jin drained the last of her wine.

"Jiro forced me to come." She sighed. "So I guess that's why I'm here."

"Let me buy you another drink then." The teenager said easily. "For old times' sake?"

"Sure." Jin felt the corners of her lips stretch in a tiny smile. "Why not?"

* * *

"R-Riku... I-I don't think we should-"

"Hn?" His hands stilled on the front of her dress. "What's wrong?" Riku lifted his head, locking eyes with the girl, her features lit up in the moonlight, dark hair, which had been yanked out of its' ponytail by the eager boy, framing her silvered face.

"I-I..." _What's wrong? Everything's wrong! This is wrong! This whole situation! What am I __**doing**__ here? Seriously? _"I c-can't..." She took his wrists, pushing them away from her clothing.

"What?" He frowned. "What do you mean, you can't?" His hands returned to the tie of her dress, which he quickly yanked free.

"I mean I can't do this." Jin said weakly, uncomfortably. She tried to pull away from Riku, perhaps slide out from underneath him, propped up against the rock with the teenager sitting on her legs, effectively pinning her.

"It's not like we haven't before." He sounded so smooth, so matter-of-fact. Jin screwed her eyes up, the vague sensation of nausea slowly unfolding. _How much maotai did he end up buying for me?_ "C'mon..." Jin's breath caught in her throat as Riku pulled apart the now unbound dress, the yellow-edged fabric slipping down her shoulders.

"I-I know... But..." She shook her head. "Stop." She grabbed his wrists, nails digging into the skin. "Please."

"Ow, Jin, let go!" He scowled, arms jerking back. "What's your problem?"

"I don't have a problem." Jin shot back, a hand going to the side of her head. "I just..."

"Good then." Riku cut over the girl, examining her partly-clothed figure with a lick of his lips, leaning in. "You're even hotter than ev-"

"Get _off!" _Jin managed to successfully push him away, even though he was taller and much more heavily built. She managed to pull herself free, kneeling on the grass, fixing the front of her dress with shaking hands.

"What the hell, Jin!" His voice thundered in the cool night air. "What is your damn problem!"

"Nothing!" Jin shot back, tying her thin sash. "Wh-What's yours? What do you think you're doing? Y-You think you can force enough maotai on me then-"

"Force?" Riku snorted. "Listen to yourself. When the hell did you get this damn high and mighty?"

"I'm _not_ high and mighty!" Jin protested. "I'm not going to sleep with you in the shadows of a children's play area!"

"Never stopped you before." Riku leered. "You've been friskier on less."

"Ugh, this is why I stopped seeing you!" She ran her hands through her hair, smoothing down the thick locks. "You... You got me drunk on purpose! Just so you could-"

"Yeah? And?" He raised an eyebrow. "This is different from any other night... How?"

"You don't _get_ it!" Jin shook her head. "This isn't what I want! Why can't you just be _nice!"_

"Ex_cuse_ me? Riku was incredulous. "I spent heaps on drinks for you! And I never complained! You spent your little heart out, getting drunk on _my _purse!"

"That's not nice!" Jin started to stand up. "Nice is..." She held her head in her hands. "Oh, for_get_ it!"

"You think you deserve to be treated like a damn princess?" Riku laughed. "Oh, Jin. Come on. Seriously, who do you think you're kidding? You think you're _better_ than me? Than everyone else? You think you deserve to be treated specially? You're not special Jin. You're as common as dirt. You're just like everybod-"

"_Shut up!"_ Jin screamed, her vision blurred with tears. "You're a bastard, Riku!" She pushed at his shoulders, hard, the boy gasping as he tumbled to the ground. "I can't be_lieve_ I ever liked you!"

"Hey!" Riku pulled himself back up his feet, red-faced. But Jin had already fled, melting effortlessly into the shadows of the night, as she had learned to years ago. She slipped into a side alley, running as fast as she could, her breath tearing from her throat in ragged sobs. Finding her way through the thin beams of moonlight that managed to permeate the ground and illuminate her surroundings, Jin pelted through the snaking maze of tiny back-alleys, until she finally managed to find an opening, an entrance into a large, public area, which was lit my a multitude of lanterns, the warm glow catching her eye from a distance.

Jin doubled over, hands on her knees as she struggled for breath, a painful stitch stabbing into her side. With a low moan, she straightened her back, rubbing at her eyes. Sensibly, she forced the burning lump in her throat away, trying to push the memories of Riku out of her head. Doubtless it was past eleven now, she was due home, and she had to figure out where she was...

Eyes widening, Jin stared about herself, taking in her surroundings. A cold feeling settled in her stomach, blossoming with recognition, until she felt as though a lump of ice had settled in her gut.

_The Firelight Fountain._

Memories of Lee flooded back. Sweet, nervous Lee. He was so unsure of what to say, what to do, so eager to please her. He risked exposing what he was to make her happy. He listened to her talk, although he was somewhat moody and sullen. He'd made a real effort with his clothes and hair, even though that was probably on his Uncles' part. Actually, he was the first boy who actually bothered to change out of his work clothes before going on a date with her. Ever.

Jin gently touched her lips, eyes stinging.

_What have I __**done?**_

* * *

_Come on, Dai Li... Where are you._

Zuko narrowed his eyes, peering over top of the slanted roof. He was stretched out along the terracotta tiles of a house shadowed by a large tree, hiding from the moonlights' silver touch. Clothed entirely in black, right down to his gloves, his mask fitted securely on his face, he looked totally unrecognizable.

All was clear.

Slowly, not daring to step heavily for fear he would wake those in the house, the teenager slowly crept across the roof, jumping lightly onto the cobblestones of the narrow street. Sticking securely to the shadows, Zuko slipped down the alley, keeping his ears open for any sound of life. Although curfew in Ba Sing Se wasn't set until midnight, which was about half an hour off, the streets were deserted, a good many of the lamps extinguished. Zuko continued walking, keeping his eyes, his ears, peeled for any signs of life. Even most of the lights in houses were out, which was somewhat strange. He didn't press the issue further. They were probably shops and stalls here, or something.

Firelight.

The lamps caught his eye, visible through a small side-alley, leading into the next street. Well, where there was light, there would be people, right? It was worth a shot, anyway, this street was as dark and silent as a graveyard. Turning into the alley, Zuko crept along, keeping in the shadows, until he was able to peer around the edge of the building, silently, casting his eyes about the scene. It was a courtyard, a familiar square he had already seen twice. He swallowed, feeling as though someone had picked at a scab in his chest. The Firelight Fountain. What made him start, however, was the slim figure, sitting on the low stone rim, long, ubound hair falling about her face and down her back. She was still, and silent, but her slumped posture suggested intense misery and depression. Zuko froze. Although her face was covered, he knew who the slumped figure was, sitting just a few feet from the exact site where he'd had his very first kiss.

_Jin._

Zuko's first compulsion was to run as fast as he could in the opposite direction. His next was to rush at her, screaming and swearing, demanding _why_ did she completely ditched him. The third, and in his mind, most uncomfortable, was to leap towards her, take her in his arms, and embrace her for all he was worth.

Instead, Zuko did what was probably the most sensible, rational thing. Keeping still in the shadows, the Prince pulled the mask from his head, crouching down behind an empty crate, and slipping it into the tiny alcove between wood and stone. His sheathed swords and gloves followed, and, after pulling back the dark hood and ruffling his hair, Zuko felt satisfied that he looked normal enough to quell suspicion, despite the full black clothing. Straightening his back, Zuko curled his hands into fists, nails digging against the palm, and took a deep breath.

"Hey." The teenage boy slowly stepped out of the dark side-street and into the firelight, his heart still thudding. He heard Jin gasp, the girl jerking out of her torpor to stare at Zuko, dark green eyes wide with surprise.

"Lee." The corners of her mouth drooped, eyebrows arching inwards, as though her face wanted to collapse. Zuko let out a short breath between pursed lips, taking another couple of steps towards her.

"Why are you here?" He asked gently, the last syllable cracking. He gestured to the fountain with one hand, emphasising its' significance. The continuation of his statement hung in the air, painfully heavy. _Why are you sitting alone in the place where we first kissed?_

"Why are you?" It was a challenge, albeit a weak one. Jin's heartbeat quickened as Zuko took another couple of tentative steps towards her, now a few feet away from the girl. This much closer, Zuko could read the expression on her face with much more clarity. Especially her eyes. She looked as though she wanted to cry.

"I was just passing." He said truthfully. "I saw you." Zuko coughed, shuffled his feet awkwardly, and scratched the back of his head. The motion elicited a short gasp from Jin, who blinked rapidly, unable to ignore how undeniably... _adorable_ he was. "Why are you here?" He repeated, their eyes meeting.

"... I..." Jin shook her head, closing her eyes. "I was..." She let out a sigh, feeling as though there was a dam in her chest, threatening to burst.

"What?" Zuko pressed, wanting to know. He could see how upset, how fragile she was, and tried his hardest not to push her, but the desire to know what compelled her to sit _here_, at this late hour, was overwhelming. What was it she wanted? "Jin." She flinched at the mention of her name. "Why-"

"It's just so stupid!" She burst out, eyes glittering. "Why is it so hard to be nice! Why do people have to be such jerks!" Zuko started, staring intently at the girl. "I-I mean... It was just a date! And it was going so well... I-I was even having fun! Wh-why? Is it so hard to just show some damn genuine affection if you care! Who gets the right to act like such a total... Ugh!" She raked her fingers through her hair, yanking at the loose dark locks.

Zuko misunderstood in an instant. He stood, frozen for a moment, as what Jin proclaimed swum around in his brain. _It was my fault. I knew it!_ He gulped as Jin wiped hurriedly at her nose, sheer frustration and anger driving her eyes to moisture. _Of course it was. I never showed her I cared. I never said... I never did... I should have..._ Before his mind had caught up with his body, before he had a chance to comprehend what on earth he was doing, Zuko dipped his head, taking Jin's face with his hands, pressing his lips against hers in the softest kiss that he could muster.

_What?!_ Jin froze, her heart seeming to stop beating for a split second. She gripped his wrists, intending to push him away, to stop this horrible, wonderful thing, but her fingers betrayed her, instead curling into the dark fabric, pulling him closer, coaxing his fingertips to graze her hair. She was so shocked, so stunned, that she was unable to move, staring somewhat blankly at Zuko as he pulled away, the merest tinge of pink on his cheeks.

"I _was _a jerk." It came out in a rushed tumble. Zuko slowly crouched down on the cobblestones, looking up at Jin, who still held onto his sleeves. "I know I was. I'm sorry. It's just that I've never been in anything like this before and I didn't know what the right thing to do was or even how I felt. I know I should have done more to show how I feel."

"Lee..." Jin's voice shook, and she felt sick.

"No, let me finish." Zuko said quickly. "Running off, calling you names... You don't deserve that. I mean, what kind of person does that, right? I'm just... I guess I'm having time adjusting to everything, and I took it out on you, and that was horrible of me. But I don't want to never see you again. You know, apart from my Uncle, you're the only person in this damn prison that makes it worth staying. I _do_ care, a lot. And I-"

"Lee, _stop!"_ She burst out, letting go of his wrists. Zuko blinked, confused, and a little angry. "You don't... Can't..."

"What?" He was bewildered. He'd said what he should have, right? Wasn't that the right thing to do, kiss her and tell her how he felt? She just said that he never showed affection, but what was that? "What's wrong Jin? What did I do?"

"Nothing." Jin pleaded. Oh, it hurt. It hurt, to see him, still crouching on the stones, looking up at her. The firelight from the many lanterns danced about his face, playing light and shadow across the skin, and causing his eyes to shine. It reminded her further about what he was. Where he came from, what he could do. He looked so young, so boyish and sweet, staring up at her. "L-Lee..." She shook her head. "You've done nothing. It's..." Jin blinked rapidly, feeling sick with guilt. She couldn't lie. As much as she wanted to, looking into his perplexed, scarred face, she just couldn't.

"What?" Zuko implored, still not understanding what made her so anxious. "Did... Did you do something?"

"No!" Jin burst out, eyes wide. "No, Lee, I swear, I haven't, I..." She swallowed. "You are... The sweetest... The nicest..." Her voice cracked. "Most... kind-hearted boy I've met." _Why? Why why why? Why do you have to be one of them! _

"I don't get it." Zuko looked down. "If you think that, then... _why..._" His hands, which were shaking, clenched into fists. "Why did you..."

"Because I know." It burst out of her, like stewpot that had been on the stove for too long. Zuko, who was staring at the ground, became very, very still, a cold feeling settling in his stomach.

"You... Know?" He swallowed, struggling to quell the ferocious beating of his heart. _Calm down!_ He screamed at himself. _You don't even know what she's on about... It could mean anything... It... Oh Agni no..._

"You're a..." Jin's face sank into her hands, the girl unable to say the word aloud. Zuko's head jerked up, and he stared at her, open-mouthed in shock. "F..." Her voice died, and she shook her head.

"Firebender." It felt like a nail in his coffin. Zuko closed his eyes, feeling more nauseous than ever. It was a few moments before he could bring himself to speak again, his voice soft, defeated. "You hate me." Jin pushed her hair back over her shoulders, overcome with pity for the boy who now knelt on the cobblestones, eyes and head lowered. It wasn't the reaction she'd expected, not at all. She'd envisioned screaming, threatened demands that she keep quiet or her life would end, a terrified picture of desperation. She'd thought he would hurt her.

_How could I ever think..._ She felt rather disgusted with herself. He'd just said how much he liked her, would he ever want to hurt her, no matter how deep his shock?

_He's a firebender._ She argued. _Evilness and killing and pain is all the Fire Nation know..._

_Spirits, I sound like my damn brother._ Jin slowly slid from the edge of the fountain. Zuko made no indication at the motion, and didn't move, or look up, as Jin carefully placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't hate you." Her voice trembled. "But... I just... I can't look at you without..."

"I know." Zuko sounded as though he was in deep pain, and it was heart-breaking. "H-how... Did you..."

"Learn?" She settled a little bit, legs folded beneath her. "Things... That you said... and did." Her hand was still on his shoulder. "I wish I didn't."

"O-Oh..." He breathed, feeling Jins' hand tighten. "I..." He shook his head. _Of course. No wonder she's been hiding. She's terrified and always will be. Just like Li and his mother. No matter what I do... How nice I am... It'll always haunt me. And she can't be around me, not with that hanging over her. And I can't, I can't let her stay in pain like that..._

"I won't tell anyone." Jin promised, her voice very small. Zuko still stared down at the cobblestones, trembling. She ached for the boy, more than he could ever know. To see him so beside himself, so upset, and to know it was her fault... Even though the whole incident was inevitable, she felt sick with herself and overwhelmingly full of pity for Zuko. She slowly raised her left hand, which was clenched in her lap, fingers brushing against Zuko's dark thatch of hair, which was surprisingly soft. She wanted to see him, wanted to look him in the eye. Perhaps then he would _say_ something to her, instead of staring silently at the ground.

"Don't." Zuko quickly grabbed Jins' wrist, pulling her slim fingers out of her hair. She frowned, the expression deepening as Zuko dropped her hand, and turned away, yanking his shoulder from her gentle grip.

"Lee, please." She begged, grabbing his shoulders in desperation, pulling him back towards her. "Look at me. Say something!" Jin lowered her head, trying to catch him in the eye, but his gaze remained resolutely fixed on the cobblestones. "Lee-"

"That's not my name." Jin froze, and Zuko took the opportunity to pull himself away, standing up and straightening his hair. Inside, he felt as though he was breaking apart. She knew. She _knew._ She knew what he was, what he could do, what he had done. She knew that he was of the race that had hurt her people so badly. She knew that he could never be truthful around others. She knew that he would always be looking behind himself, always anxious and nervous. And she would try to ignore it, try to forget, of course she would. She was doing it right now, making him look her in the eye. She'd try and go on like it didn't exist, like he wasn't from the Fire Nation, harbouring a secret that would eat her up inside, and fill her with self-loathing. She would lie to her family, her friends, just as Zuko had lied to her, until she was so entangled in pretence, engaging in a charade, that when it all came out – and it would, eventually – they would all hate her, for fraternizing with the enemy. And like every other person who lived in the poverty-stricken lower-ring of Ba Sing Se, family and friends was all she had.

"I-it's not?" _Of course it's not. _She realised. _Of course he would use a fake name. _Zuko shook his head as he stood, turned away from her with his arms crossed. "What is it?" She stood up herself, taking one of his arms. Predictably, Zuko yanked it away, his dark hair falling over his face and hiding his features from her. She couldn't see the tears in his eyes.

"Zuko." He whispered, feeling her gaze lock on him. He couldn't keep it from her – after all of the lies, the secrets, it would have been beyond wrong. "I... Have to go." Zuko kept his voice low, and rough. "Take care, Jin." He started to walk away, and with a cry, Jin sprang forward.

"Zuko, don't!" She pleaded, and at the mention of his name, hearing it uttered for the first time by the peasant girl, the teenager froze, the stinging in his eyes increasing. "Please, Zuko, don't leave." She used his name again, wanting to show him that it was okay, it would be okay, she was shocked, and horrified, yes, but it wasn't the end of the world. "I-I'm not scared of you." Jin said firmly, taking one of his hands in hers. "It's only a part of who you are. You're so much more than that." She begged. "It's not what defines you, Zuko."

"It is." His voice was cold – it was easier that way. "Jin, you don't understand. Look, you can _say_ it's all right, but... It's not. It won't be. Knowing what I am-"

"Changes nothing!" Jin cut in. "I like you, Zuko. I really really like you." She was using his name at every possible opportunity, trying to get use to how it sounded, trying to associate the name with his face. "You're-"

"The enemy." Zuko cut in this time. "Maybe not to you, but to your people. I can't Jin. And you can't either." He was aware of the tears beginning to trail down his cheeks, and tightly gritted his teeth. "What would they say, if they knew?"

"I don't care!" Jin protested. "I don't care Zuko! What others think doesn't matter to me, not at all. _You're _what matters, you-"

"Dammit Jin, _STOP!" _He shouted, wrenching his hand free. Jin gasped, and reeled back, one hand covering her mouth at Zuko's explosion, eyes smarting. The lanterns, neat little flames that dotted the water and thronged the fountain on metal lampposts, burst in his anger. Turning on her heel at the sound, Jin's lower lip trembled as she saw the paper lampshades engulfed by the flames, the lanterns ruined. She stared, unable to tear her eyes away as the paper curled and sizzled, the flames exhausted, flickering dully.

"Zuko..." Jin breathed, rubbing her eyes as she turned back to regard the boy, "Y-..." Her voice died in her throat as he realised that he was nowhere at all to be seen. Zuko had fled the scene while her back was turned, slipped in to one of the many alleys, and would be lost in the night. "_Why_." She set her head in her hands, loose hair falling about her shoulders. "Damn!" Jin cursed aloud, turning and kicking at the stone edge of the fountain. He rejected her! She said that it was okay, she used his real name, she said it didn't matter and he _still_ rejected her! Not realising what Zuko did was for her own good, Jin kicked the fountain again, this time creating a large crack in the stone surface.

_I have to go._ She raised her eyes to the moon, trying to calculate the time. _I have to get home... Go to bed. I'm so late, Ma will be furious and if I'm not careful, I'll break curfew. I'm on my third warning, they might take me in..._ Not wanting to risk arrest by the Dai Li, or worse, invoke the anger of her mother, Jin started to jog out of the small courtyard, away from the ruined fountain. She was hurt, bewildered, and upset, but also more than a little angry.

_What does he want?_ She scowled. _What does he want from me? He kissed me, dammit!_ Jin pausedin her stride, touching her lips. _And it was so..._

_I'm going to see him tomorrow._ She started to walk again resolutely. _I'll be at the tea shop all day if I have to be. He can't and he won't ignore me. If he's got a problem with me, then he's going to tell me what it is. I said I wouldn't tell, I said it didn't matter and I still liked him! _

_I'll get a straight answer out of him._ Jin rubbed at her eyes. _One way or another.

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_

ZOMG DRAMA!

SO yeah... REVIEW FOLKS! Please?

Next chapter shouldn't be too far off, provided I don't get swine flu or anything (jokes).


	9. Chapter 9

Hi all!

Awesome to see the love from everybody :D

I'm sorry that this is a short chapter. But, think of it as an interlude between two long, kind of event-packed chapters, where I get to, you know, have some space and time and stuff. Besides, this one has Iroh POV which you all know is awesome and makes up for shortness (hopes they all fall for it).

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Much sadness all around

* * *

"Jin, where on earth have you _been!"_

The moment she stepped inside, the scolding started. Jin winced as she closed the sagging door behind her, head bowed as she slipped out of her shoes. "Your father let you out on the condition you were home by eleven! It's gone midnight! Do you have any idea how worried you made us?"

"I'm sorry." Jin mumbled, keeping her gaze lowered. "Time... Sort of got away on me... I didn't mean to..."

"You _best_ be sorry!" The thickset women set her darning aside, stood up. "You have to get up for work in five hours. You'll be exhausted all day tomorrow!"

_Not as bad as today. _"I know Ma." She clutched at her dress. "I'm sorry." If she wanted to avoid a scolding, Jin could have extracted sympathy from her mother, bursting into tears and retelling the story of her long, horrible night, but what would it have done, really? Shan had, in reality, a limited knowledge of what exactly her daughter got up to when she slipped out at nights, but she could guess, and she did so correctly. What Jin didn't say to her was always expressed in her body language and facial expression when she got home – and recently, she'd been returning with an increasingly despondent look on her face. There was a time for scolding and grounding, and a time to talk, find out what was going on, to try and help.

"What's his name." She asked with a sigh, to Jin's surprise.

"Wh-what?" The girl blinked, caught out by her mothers' drastic change in tone. "Whose name?"

"The boy that's made you this miserable." Shan took her daughters arms, forcing her to sit down at one of the two cushioned chairs beside the stove, usually where Shan curled up at night with her mending once the washing-up was finished, and Renshu puffed thoughtfully at a sharp-smelling pipe. "Who is he?"

"Oh!" Jin blushed, caught out by her mothers' question. She watched as Shan set the teapot down on the stove, busying herself with the tea-things. "U-Um... What makes you think it's a boy?"

"Because I was sixteen once too, my girl." Shan took a brief seat on her chair. "There's a special sort of misery in your face that has only one explanation."

"We-ell..." Jin bit on her lower lip, the blush spreading across her nose. "Actually, there's... kind of... two." She twiddled her thumbs together.

"What?" The woman's forehead sank into her palm. "_Jin..."_

"I know, I know." Jin sighed. "I just... I saw Riku tonight... Again... And, well... He kind of..."

"You didn't, did you?" Shan started, her voice unusually sharp.

"No! No, I swear!" Jin pleaded. "He _wanted_ to, but I wouldn't. I swear Ma, I'm not like that!" _Anymore..._

"Good." Shan closed her eyes for a moment, relief coursing through her. "I don't want you to make the mistakes I made Jin."

"I thought you love Dad." Jin frowned, watching as her mother got up, fetching the whistling pot from the stove.

"Oh, I do, dear, I do." She nodded. "But it wasn't an ideal situation, at all... I was only seventeen, and your father a year older... I wanted to marry him, but not to make sure Meng was legitimate." At the mention of her eldest child, Shan's faced tightened. "If things were different... If we waited until my Father approved and Renshu had found a more stable job, things would be a lot better than they are now." A cup of tea was pushed into Jin's hands.

"I like things the way they are." Jin argued. "Ma, don't beat yourself up for what you did all of those years ago. Look, no one knows what would have, or could have happened. It's in the past. Leave it alone..." She took a sip of her green tea. "What's in the past is in the past... It can't be changed now and it can't keep controlling your life..." Jin stared into her yellowish drink, her chest aching.

"I get the feeling it's this second boy that's the trouble." Shan smiled, glad to snatch a few rare moments with her daughter, even if it was at this stupidly late hour.

"Lee." Jin admitted. "He moved here recently. He was... a refugee." She took another sip of her tea. "But he's got a dark past... I know a bit about it but not all. He's shutting me out because of it, and refusing to see me anymore. He says that it's better for both of us, that he'll only end up hurting me, but..." She drew in a sharp breath. "I like him Ma, I do. He's so much more different than all the other boys I met. He's so sweet and caring and nice, and he's downright cute when he wants to be. I don't care about what he did or he used to be. It's now that's important. And now, he's... someone that I don't wanna let go of." Jin finished, draining the last of her tea, looking up at her mother. "What do I do?"

"... Just how bad is this past of his?" Shan asked her daughter very seriously, looking over the rim of her near-empty cup.

"... Bad." Jin admitted. "It... Let's just say that if I told you, you would probably forbid me from ever seeing him again and report him to the Dai Li."

"And you're asking me for advice?" Shan raised an eyebrow. "What do you think I'll say?"

"That I should leave well alone." Jin sighed, shoulder slumped. "That I'll only end up being hurt, and it wouldn't be worth it. That I should know better than to mess with types like him."

"And you're right." Shan agreed. "You've gotten my feeling spot on - not that you ever listen to me, of course." Jin forced a weak smile. "But Jin..." The woman looked rather sad. "You're not a child anymore, no matter how hard I try to deny that. You're strong young woman, and I know you can make your own choices. But please, whatever you must do, I beg of you, think of yourself, and think of us."

"Ma, I would never do anything to hurt you." Jin murmured. "You and Dad and my brothers mean everything to me, and just the thought of ever losing you hurts like you wouldn't believe. I'm not going to risk everything I have for this, I just..." She raked her fingers through her hair, her inner conflict evident.

"Go to bed, honey." Shan said warmly. "You're tired. You need rest."

"I-I know..." Jin slowly stood up with a stretch. "You're not mad at me are you?"

"Mad? I'm furious." Her mother said sharply. "You blatantly disobeyed your promise, risked getting mugged or arrested, and had me worried sick."

"I'm sorry." Jin mumbled one more time. She crossed the little room silently, turning, and pausing in the door way. "... 'Night, Ma."

"Good night, Jin." Shan smiled at her only daughter, who returned the expression, before making the quiet walk to her room. She pushed open her sagging door with a sigh, ready to collapse onto her bed. Problem was, somebody had beaten her to it.

"'Bout time you got back." Jiro lay on her bed with his arms folded behind his back, staring up at the ceiling. "I was almost thinking about packing it in."

"Jiro, go to bed." Jin rolled her eyes, tugging at the sash on her dress. "I need sleep."

"Yeah, yeah." The teenager slowly sat up, looking a little concerned. "_Please_ tell me you didn't end up-"

"No, I didn't." Jin said testily, her outer dress hanging on the tiny clothes rack. "You're worse than Ma. Go away Jiro, I'm going to sleep."

"Aw, fine." He stood up, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. "So why are you so upset then?" Jiro asked after a moment of silence, studying Jin's face in the candlelight.

"... It's complicated." Jin said softly, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Jiro raised an eyebrow. "I'm not going to tell you." Her voice tightened, and she clenched her hands into fists. "You wouldn't understand."

"Ah, girly stuff." Jiro sighed. "Fine. But if you need me to kick anybody's butt for you, don't hesitate to ask." He gave the girl a fond smile. "I don't mind looking out for you."

"I don't need you to kick anybody's butt for me." Jin stretched out on her bed, arms behind her head, much like her brother had lain a few moments before. "Sorry to disappoint."

"Aww, fine." He gave a mock pout, before straightening up, turning away from the girl. "'Night Jin."

"Night." She murmured, rolling over as Jiro closed the narrow door, staring at the shadows the candlelight threw on the wall. Slowly, she stretched out an arm, trailing her fingers across the rough-hewn boards, watching as her fingertips flushed a deep gold from the light.

_Dammit!_ Jin groaned, flopping back into her original position, eyes locked on the ceiling. _I'm not going to get Zuko out of my head, am I?_ She sighed sadly, the corners of her mouth drooping.

_Zuko. That's a Fire Nation name if I ever heard one. No wonder he got a fake name Lee sounds so much more... Innocent._ Jin closed her eyes. _Poor Zuko... I saw the hurt in his eyes. I saw how upset he was. It's not the fear of being turned in that he's really afraid of. It's the rejection. I bet he's told people before. And I bet they hated him immediately for what he was. Does he not know me at __**all**__? Does he not realise that I would never do that?_

_But I did... _Jinshuffled uncomfortably. _I fled when I found out, and I refused to see him for days. Isn't that rejection? Ugh, I __**am**__a hypocrite. I was afraid. It was a big shock, learning that he was one of them. How else was I going to react?_

_But I do care about him so much... He actually treated me like I was worth something. Like I was more than just a dirty peasant. I know what I am, I accept it. I'm not happy about it, but I accept it. Perhaps it's just manners. It's probably how they do things in the Fire Nation. Honour and glory and all that. Treat your woman with kindness and respect, that ties in well... But the way he gave a damn, even though he looked sick with dread at the possibility of a date... _

_I'm not letting go of him. _Jin sat up a little, kicking back the covers, and sliding beneath them, letting them gather around her waist. It was a mild spring night, the chill of winter almost completely gone from the late night air. _If he thinks that just because our races are locked in a century-long war, we can't be together, then he's either very stupid or very weak-willed..._

_... Or very smart._ Jin winced. _We can be together, but without repercussions? Even if we got away with it, even if it was kept secret, what then? If the Fire Nation won, it would be undone, I'd be thrown into jail and killed and he would return to his country. But, if by some stroke of luck, the Fire Nation falls, he'd be strung up and lynched... _

_But no one is going to know. I'm sure not going to tell anyone, and I'm sure that he's smart enough to figure to keep it from everyone else. I found out because he was being so personal and intimate with me. He's not going to treat anybody else like that. He's safe. His secret is safe with me, doesn't he understand that?_

_He's not a monster, and he can't think of himself as one. _Jin turned onto her side, pulling the thin blankets up to her chin. _And he can't think that I would ever abandon him. _

_Selfish little prat._ The girl smiled, despite herself, eyelids drooping.

* * *

_I think this is a futile attempt. _

Iroh groaned as he sat up, scratching at his stomach. _Perhaps a nice cup of tea will help coax me back into sleep... Yes._ He nodded, stepping up from his futon, shuffling across the tiny room and pushing open the screen door. The moonlight streamed through the windows, which Iroh had forgotten to close, bathing the half-packed room in a soft, silvery glow. Iroh paused for a moment, eyes locked with the moon. Of its' own accord, the elderly mans' mind drifted back to a night, just a couple of short months ago, in an ice-walled valley. He inclined his head in a short bow to Yue, before turning his attention to the stove in the corner of the room. Halfway in his journey, however, Iroh pulled up short, realising with a frown that his nephews' door was partly open.

"Zuko?" He blinked, padding towards the ajar door, sliding open the door a little more. "My nephew, why are you still up at this..." Iroh trailed off as he realised that the little room was devoid of all human life, Zuko's bed smooth and untouched.

_No._ Iroh closed his eyes. _I should have known._ Cursing himself under his breath, Iroh ran back into his room, pulling on his outer clothes as fast as he possibly could. _Of course he was going to try and find the bison. I hope I can find him in time and make sure he doesn't do anything foolish._ Iroh stepped into his shoes, before sprinting out of the small apartment with surprising agility for a man his age – But then again, Iroh was far from being remotely ordinary for a man his age. _Ooh, what am I talking about? He's probably gotten himself arrested by now... _In the street at this point, Iroh stood stock still, keeping as quiet as he possibly good, trying to pick up any sound, and noise from the silent atmosphere about himself.

_I hope I'm not too late. _Iroh winced, keeping to the shadows the best he could. _I don't have the energy to rescue him from the Dai Li. _

_And he was doing so well..._ the elderly man mused sadly. _I expected a relapse like this... But I was hoping that he would settle down here, find a nice girl and some friends..._

_Well, he did both, and it blew up in his face._ Iroh sighed. _Jin's ignoring him for some strange reason, and that Jet boy found out who we were and tried to get us arrested. He was right. Things have been going well with me, getting the Jasmine Dragon and the new apartment, but every effort he's tried to make to fit in has ended badly. No wonder he's so disheartened. _

_I've tried my best. What else can I do? He's never going to give up, no matter what I tell him. I've tried to make him see the light, so many times, but he's too fixated on something that will never happen. _Iroh turned into the narrow side-alley, still keeping on high alert for any sound. _I'll stand by him, until the end of my days, even if it lands me into the worst kind of trouble. _

_What's that?_ Iroh pulled up in his walk, eyes widening. The retired general dove into an open doorway, pushing the door until it was almost closed. Leaving a space to take peek, should the need arise, Iroh kept a careful eye out, waiting for the footstep he heard to walk by. Sure enough, a few moments later he caught sight of the Dai Li agent, slowly walking down the tiny side alley, with two Dao swords across his chest, the razor-sharp blades a hairs breadth from his throat.

_Oh dear._ Iroh winced, shrinking into the shadows of the abandoned house. _Nephew, what are you doing?_ There was no doubt the black-clothed man in the blue mask was Zuko. He waited until they hadgone out of sight, but not out of sound, before slipping back into the narrow alley, keeping his footsteps light and body in the shadows. He'd follow Zuko, of course, to make sure that he was going to be all right, to aide him if he needed help, protect him if it got a bit nasty.

He'd follow Zuko to the end.

* * *

Say it with me: Aaaawwwwwwwwwwww.

Hope this puts things in canonical (Is that even a word?) Perspective for those who were unsure.

So yeah. Peace out brothers, hope I see you next chapter! Should be a fun time!

And don't forget to review :D. Just sending you a 'lil reminder. You know. Because you want to.


	10. Chapter 10

Heyyyy all!

Sorry this is a little late... I've had assignments coming out my ears... Not fun.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Accept it.

* * *

"Rise and shine."

"No." It was an automatic response, issued from the warm comfort of her pillow. Jin buried herself further into her bed, the blankets quickly pulled back up to her nose. She heard her mother sigh, a low sound of annoyance, and gasped as Shan yanked sharply at the sheets, pulling them off of her daughter and casting them on the floor. Jin groaned, curling up into a tighter ball to preserve her body heat.

"Oh, come on." The woman muttered, tugging at the pillow next. Jin yelped as it too was pulled away, and buried her face in the mattress, mumbling incoherently. "Jin, get up. You have to be at work in half an hour."

"Noo..." Jin moaned. "I'm tired."

"Then you shouldn't have stayed up all hours of the night, running around with boys." There was very little sympathy in Shan's voice as she walked towards her daughters' little clothing rack, taking one of her work dresses and throwing it on the bed. "Get up. I'm taking breakfast off the table in ten minutes."

"Ugh..." Jin rolled over onto her back. "It's too cold to get up." She groped for her blankets.

"It's nice and warm in the lounge." Shan paused in the doorway. "I stocked the stove up good and heavy before I went to bed, and it's still going. Now hurry up, or you'll be late and they'll dock your pay again."

"All _right."_ Heaving a long sigh, Jin pushed herself into a sitting position. Eyes only half-opened, she groped blindly for her dress, before pulling it over her head. A simple, borderline shapeless outfit, of a rather drab shade of olive, trimmed in a soft yellowish-green. It was ugly, with a capital 'U', but who ever saw it, apart from those she worked with? And besides, the fabric was sturdy and the colour masked the dirt well. With a long sigh, Jin stood up, letting the material fall mid-calf before tying the sash tightly about her waist, in a classic attempt to look thinner than she really was. Still foggy with sleep – or rather, a lack of – Jin padded silently into the living room, making sure to keep her footsteps light as she passed her brothers' door, afraid to rouse her younger siblings.

"Morning." Jiro glanced up from a bowl of gruel, looking rather peaky. Jin mumbled a soft response before kneeling at her place before the low table, unable to look her father in the eye.

"I thought I told you." Here it came. Jin accepted her breakfast silently from her mother, keeping her eyes down. "To be home by eleven, no later. I hear you didn't get in until after midnight."

"Yes." Jin winced, nodding. "I ran into a bit of trouble." She saw her father tense in the corner of her eye. "Not with the authorities!" She added quickly. "Just with a... Friend." She accepted a small spoonful of the thin meal, her stomach knotted uncomfortably.

"Friend." Renshu snorted. "I was not born yesterday, Jin. Don't lie about what you've been up to."

"I didn't do anything you're insinuating." Jiro froze, spoon halfway to his mouth, and Shan busied herself with the stove.

"I've heard that before." Was the curt response, eliciting an uncomfortable cough from the woman.

"You better get going, dear." Shan jumped in quickly. "You're working on the western side today, aren't you? It's a bit of a walk."

"Yes... All right." The man shot his only daughter a stony look – _This isn't over young lady - _before standing up. He nodded to Jiro, embracing his wife quickly, before stepping into his shoes, making his way out the front door.

"Oooh, lucky." Jiro smirked. "You almost got it good, Jin."

"Shut up." She growled in response. "_You're _the one who said I should go out. This is your fault."

"Yeah, I said come out and have fun, not_- Ow!"_ Jiro rubbed the back of his head with a scowl as a piece of the brickwork wall came into sharp contact with his skull. He got the message though, and shut up, returning to his plate with a glare. Jin sighed, and with a wave of her hand, the small piece of stone was returned.

"I want you home the moment you finish work, Jin." Shan said crisply. "I have a lot of work to do. I need you to scrub the floors, wash the bedsheets, prepare dinner, give Chang a bath, and empty the stove."

"_What?"_ Jin was aghast, as her twin chuckled. "_Ma! _Why?"

"Because, young lady," Was the firm reply. "It's called _punishment_. Perhaps you'll think twice before wandering out all hours of the night with boys I haven't met before."

"That's not fair!" She argued. "Jiro was-"

"At home on time, just as he promised." Shan scolded. "He didn't risk his life and liberty as you did! What if you were ambushed by a cutthroat, or mugged? Or worse? You know what happens to young girls out alone, Jin."

"Anyone comes near me; I'll crush them with a boulder." Her daughter retaliated. "You don't have to-"

"What about the Dai Li?" Her voice rose, the tone tightening. "Good grief Jin, you would think that after Meng-" The woman broke off with a choked sob. Jin swallowed, guilt quickly rushing up in her chest.

"Ma, I didn't-"

"Go to work." She said. "The both of you. Please. You don't want to be late." They didn't argue. Although Jin still hadn't done her hair, and Jiro needed to wash his face after getting food on it, they slipped out of the house quietly, giving each other a sombre look before Jiro closed the front door behind him. Alone, Shan gripped the edge of the metal basin tightly, trying to hold her composure, but failing miserably, as the memories of her eldest child were painfully brought to the surface.

"We shouldn't-"

"Leave it." He muttered, starting to walk down the dark, narrow staircase "Look, she hates crying in front of us. But she's got a point-"

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow. "You can't talk. How many warnings have you had from the Dai Li now?"

"Just, two, like you." Was the short response. "Look, I can fight. At least, enough to hold them off long enough to escape. I do it all the time with the guys. Well, a lot. But Jin, you-"

"I _what?"_ Her reply was venomous. "Can't fight? I'm not a brilliant earthbender like you?" They walked down the steps, Jin tugging at her hair, trying to force the uncombed locks into a braid.

"You're a good bender." Jiro sighed. "Don't be a jerk, you know you are. But you, by yourself, aren't a mach for a Dai Li agent. The gang and I? We can take one or two."

"Yeah, all right." She sighed. "Whatever. But _still,_ the floors? Dinner? Bathing Chang? Do you know how damn hard that is? He hates being clean! I'll be chasing him all around Ba Sing Se!" _And I wanted to track down Zuko today? How on earth can I do that if I have to do these stupid chores? Ugh!_

"You're a girl; you have to know how to do it." Jiro said teasingly, the pair stepping into the street "If you don't know how to cook and clean, you'll never find a good husband."

"Oh, shut _up."_ She tripped him up with a stamp of her foot, a dislodged cobblestone shifting under his foot. _You'd think he'd be better at defending himself from that by now._ "I don't _want_ to find a husband who only wants me to cook and clean!" _Amongst other things._

"And you were with Riku why?" He shook his head, scowling a little as he straightened up. "This Lee guy is messing you up, Jin. Seriously."

"I know." Instead of the angered response he expected, Jin sounded soft, and sad. "I think I am cracking up. I can't sleep right, keep my head straight, concentrate at work... Nothing."

"Sounds like you're in love." Jiro was teasing her again, but the short sentence sent an icy trickle down Jins' spine.

"Oh, don't be stupid." She snapped. "He's just a boy."

"Ah, but you have to settle down soon." Jiro jammed his hands in his pockets, looking up for a moment at the grey sky, edged with an icy white. "Sixteen now, you're a big girl. Already older than Ma when she got married."

"I'm not getting married for a while yet." She muttered. "I have things I wanna do first, before I become a stupid housewife. What about you, huh?" Jin could tease as well, if that's how Jiro wanted to play. "You think you can get a wife by shovelling coal for the rest of your life?"

"Oh, ha, ha." He sneered. "Look, you know that's not forever. The moment I turn seventeen, I'm joining the army. Become a tough soldier and help beat this stinking Fire Nation. Then when I come back, I'll be an officer, real high rank, and the girls'll be falling at my feet."

"Suure." Jin rolled her eyes, having heard this fantasy a thousand times before. "And I'm going to sprout wings and fly."

"Oh, shut up." He knew she was joking about, but it still hurt. "You're still latching onto that stupid idea of 'exploring the world'. When's that gonna happen, huh?" Jin opened her mouth to retaliate, but closed it again, lips pressed together. He was right. She was right.

"So we're just a couple of grubby peasant kids with stupid dreams." Jin kicked at a rock despondently.

"We've always been just a couple of grubby peasant kids with stupid dreams." They pulled up short in their walk, Jin having to turn left towards the laundry, while Jiro had to go to the machinery factory straight ahead. "See you later, Jin."

"Yeah." She smiled, giving him a wave before beginning her walk down the still-quiet street, her mind still ticking over. _Damnit! Why today? How the heck am I going to get Zuko if I have to do that stupid housework? She doesn't have work of her own, she just wants to punish me. And fair enough, I guess. But still! _

_All right, I'll just get them done as soon as I can, and then perhaps I might be able to get in before the store closes. Yeah, that shouldn't be too hard. And I'm only on ironing today._ She remembered with a sigh of relief. _Nothing too hard and stressful. _

Eventually, Jin was standing outside the laundry, a low, squat building, very ugly. Taking in a breath, she joined the trickle of workers who filed through the front door, and was about to head into the steamy lower room, when a broad hand planted itself firmly on her shoulder.

"Jin!" The girl gasped. "You'll do." Jin spun around to find Mrs. Chan, and a thin woman she had never seen before. "This is Cila. She's new here. Show her around, and explain everything she needs to know. Lien can do work for two until you're done."

"Sure." Jin nodded, giving a short bow to her supervisor, who walked off without further greeting. "All right." She flashed a smile. "I'm Jin. What brings you here, Cila?"

"Oh... I'm new in Ba Sing Se." The woman sounded strangely nervous, and Jin thought she could sense an undercurrent of sadness in her tone. "I just moved here with my son Li."

"Well, you'll... learn to love it." She said. "The people are usually friendly, disease and plague is not very common, we get grain all year around, and the nightlife can be enjoyable." Jin flashed a smile, trying to cheer up the woman. She knew where Cila came from. It was evident in her ragged clothing, her naturally slumped posture, and downcast eyes. _Refugee._ "This is where the clothes get dumped after sorting." Jin paused beside six massive metal vats, wide and shallow, at least ten feet across. Steam furled from the water, which swirled with acrid salts and chemicals. There were several women bent over the tubs, wielding long metal poles, to prod the clothes through the water. "This job is easy. Just make sure the clothes don't get tangled. This is heavy duty, usually just reserved for sheets and stained clothing. Most clothes get washed with soap in the next room over." Cila nodded. "After the clothes have been soaked for two hours, they take them out, stick them in those carts," Jin gestured. "And roll them into this next room here."

"Wow." The woman looked a little overwhelmed. "It's so hot in here, too..."

"Oh, yeah. Good thing you have short sleeves." Jin led Cila into the next room. "This is where the clothing's rinsed in cold water." These basins were smaller, as each item had to be individually handled, and there were a couple of dozen in uniform lines along the room. "So," She turned to Cila. "Are you in Ba Sing Se by yourself, or did you come with family?"

"My nine-year-old son..." Cila murmured. "Li."

"Oh, cool." Jin purposely kept her tone light. _Husband died in the war, _she judged instantly. "My little cousins Mao and Chun are eight and nine. If Li is looking for new friends, we should set up a play date."

"That... Might be a good idea." Cila said softly. "Li hasn't had friends his own age in a while."

"Awesome." She flashed another smile. "Well, in here is the box-mangling." The revulsion in her voice was clear. "This is the worst." Further explanation wasn't needed. Cila eyed one of the machines as they walked past, Jin pausing near the other exit. "Anyways, this door here leads into the hot room." Jin pointed to the handle of a vast metal door. "That's where the clothes are dried. The doors' locked while the clothes are drying, so nobody can get in. There's been a few deaths, people getting roasted alive in there and stuff." Jin winced. "Not pretty."

"It gets that hot in there?" Cila blinked. Jin nodded. "Wow..."

"Yeah." Jin tried to be tactful. "So... Where did you and Li live before you came here?"

"A tiny farming village in the southwest." Was Cila's soft reply. "Near the desert."

"Neat. So Ba Sing Se must seem really different in comparison." Jin tried to encourage conversation. Cila nodded silently. "Well, in here is the least laborious job, but it's no doubt the most tedious. Reserved for like, robes and stuff. You have to make sure there's not a single crease, or you'll get it from Mrs. Chan." Jin shivered. "And you don't want that to happen."

"She seems a little frightening." Cila said quietly.

"She is." Jin sighed. "So, do you finish at midday, or are you an all-day worker?"

"All day." Cila responded. "Why?"

"Cos I'll have to show you where you eat and stuff. You'll get half an hour off to each lunch, and most go outside to take in the air." She started to walk back through the commercial laundry. "So Cila, what brings you to Ba Sing Se?" She looked over at the woman, who had lowered her eyes to the ground.

"I lost my husband and eldest son." She sounded blank. "I couldn't run the farm alone, and there aren't any other safe places left."

"Oh." Jin said sympathetically. "I'm so sorry."

"Thank you." Cila brushed rapidly at her eyes. "It's hard, without a doubt. But every night, I thank the spirits I have my Li... We weren't in any immediate danger, but it still wasn't safe for us to stay."

"Were there..." Jin looked around quickly, making sure no one was eavesdropping. "Fire Nation troops in your village?"

"Oh, no." Cila shook her head. "But we had an Earth Kingdom Guard... Complete thugs, they loot and plunder and claim it for the 'war effort'... No, the only person from the Fire Nation that ever passed through our village was Prince Zuko."

_What._

Jin was aware of something icy lurching horribly in her stomach, knees weakening. She was able to keep her step, thankfully, although her flushed face rapidly paled. _**Prince**__Zuko? No..._

"Prince Zuko?" She squeaked, trying to keep her voice offhand, yet slightly curious.

"Yes..." Cila sounded either troubled, or deep in thought. "My husband didn't know he was the Prince of the Fire Nation was when he offered him a place to sleep, obviously. My son found him hungry in the village, getting hassled by the Guard."

"Did he cause trouble for you?" Jin tried to keep a tremor out of her voice. _It might not be... I mean... Zuko could be a common, popular name, right? I don't even know..._

Jin felt sick. _He said it was complicated... He said they would hate me if they knew... He didn't just mean that he was a firebender, he..._

"Oh, no." Jin swung her full attention to Cila. "Actually, he rescued my son from the soldiers. He didn't need to, he'd already begun travelling again, but when I found him and explained what happened, he was there in a heartbeat to help." She looked despondent. "I half wish that I could have thanked him."

"Wow." Jin said faintly. "What's the Prince of the Fire Nation doing in the heart of the Earth Kingdom if troops haven't even made their way there yet?"

"You _don't_ get any outside information in Ba Sing Se." Cila commented. "He was banished, years ago, and for some reason, he's become a major fugitive of the Fire Nation. His wanted poster is in every town from here to Chin village."

"Oh." Her voice cracked, much to her annoyance. _What did he do?_ "That's strange. So whose side is he on then?"

"Not ours!" Cila was alarmed. "Good grief, are you insane?"

"But he saved your son-"

"I don't care. He could save the entire city of Ba Sing Se and I wouldn't want him anywhere near Li ever again." Jin inwardly cringed. "Li and I passed through a few villages under Fire Nation control on our journey. They're filth. And I don't want any of them close to my son."

"Here's the outside area!" Jin forced a smile on her face, despite her fiercely thudding heart. Cila followed the girl into the little high-walled courtyard. There were a few tables and chairs, but it was still in an obvious state of disarray, the grass sprouting between the cracked cobblestones, the ground littered with bits of paper and rubbish. Cila's eyes widened as she took in the scene, her tension obvious.

"It's... _very_ different to the farm." She finally choked out. "It..."

"I know." Jin said sympathetically. "But I mean, all you do is sit down and eat, right? It doesn't have to be fancy." She turned away from the little courtyard. "We should get back to Mrs. Chan." Jin said quickly, her stomach still feeling weak. "She doesn't like people standing around."

"I noticed." Cila murmured, falling into step beside the girl. "So... How long have you been working here?"

"Four years." Jin sighed. "Six days a week, every week of the year. It could be worse, I know, but that doesn't mean I have to enjoy it."

"But..." Cila looked her up and down. "How _old_ are you?" She gave Jin a frown.

"Oh, I turn seventeen in autumn." She frowned. "Why?"

"So... You were twelve?" The woman murmured. "That's... young."

"Some here are like, ten." Jin shrugged. "It's normal. I bet you made Li work pretty hard on the farm, right?"

"Well, yes, especially after..." She swallowed. "But it wasn't anything formal."

"See? No difference." Jin forced a smile. "So, where are you staying at the moment?"

"An apartment south-east from here." Cila responded. "It's not much, but with a wage like this..."

"I know, right?" Jin agreed. "My father, brother, and I all work, and we struggle to get by. It's all the refugees, coming in and taking out jo..." Jin trailed off, realising what she had said. "O-Oh... S-sorry." She stammered, flushing bright red. "I... I didn't mean..."

"It's okay." Cila waved it off. "I understand, it must be frustrating for long-time citizens to have to cope with all the new migrants."

"I don't have a grudge against any refugees." Jin pleaded. "I swear, I mean, I understand that they – you – have nowhere else to go, and of course you'd rather be at home. I didn't mean-"

"It's _fine."_ Cila shook her head. "Really. But you would think that the government would do something, some sort of program, to create more work."

"Ha!" Jin rolled her eyes. "All the Earth King cares about is his palace and his parties and balls. Why do you think he's ignoring the war? Because he doesn't want to give up his life of luxury. Trust me, he doesn't care a jot for anyone in the lower ring one bit."

"I'm sure that's not entirely true." Cila said. "I'm sure he cares."

"I heard he never even left his palace, not once in his life." Jin sighed. "What kind of leader is that?"

"I don't know." Cila conceded. "But it's better to be silent than outright violence against the people you're supposed to be governing." The thought of the malicious Guard, responsible for the relocation of her decimated family, flashed through her mind.

"I guess." They were in the ironing room, Jin peering around through the gloom for Mrs. Chan. "Hey, did you want to come to my place for dinner tonight?"

"What?" Cila blinked. "What do you..."

"My mother always cooks too much." Jin elaborated. "Force of habit, I guess. I mean, we eat it all, but there's always room for a guest. I just thought... You probably don't know many people in the city and who doesn't want a good free dinner? My little brothers aren't exactly Li's age, but they'll still get along."

"All right." Cila nodded. "Thank you very much, Jin."

"No problem." Jin was about to explain further, when she felt her shoulder being struck for the second time that morning. "Mrs. Chan!" The girl jumped. "We were just about to get you."

"I'm sure." She gave Jin a hard-eyed look. "You go to your post. Cila, come with me. Ning decided not to show up today, so you can cover her in the rinsing."

"All right." Jin gave Cila a wave. "I'll find you when I've finished and give you my address." She gave the woman another smile, the expression fading as she turned away, hardening into a frown.

_Zuko... Prince of the Fire Nation?_ She rubbed at her eyes. _I just can't see it. I can't. _

_It's a mistake._ Jin thought. _It has to be. I mean... There's no way my Zuko is the same as Prince Zuko. _

_My Zuko?_ A magnificent red blush spread across her cheeks. _Did I just... refer to him as... mine? I didn't mean it in that sense. Just as a form of distinguishing him... _Jin coughed uncomfortably as she walked into the gloom ironing room, making her way to the back tables, where Lien was hunched over, trying to iron a perfectly straight crease into a silken robe.

"Have fun?" She spared Jin a glance, before returning to her work. Lien froze, and set down the heavy metal iron, regarding the girl somewhat suspiciously. "What's wrong?"

"What?" Jin pushed her hair behind her ears, taking the thick wad of linen that had been folded for her. "Nothing, why do you say that?"

"... No reason." Lien backed down, returning her gaze to her work. She wasn't stupid. But if Jin wanted to be secretive, then whatever. Wrapping the thick cloth around her hand, so the red-hot handle of the iron wouldn't burn her, Jin let out a long breath, trying to recollect herself. "So how was it with Riku last night?"

"Ah!" Jin gasped as she dropped the iron with a clang, shooting Lien a filthy glare. Her heart hammering in her throat, Jin ignored the younger girl, taking the iron again, stepping over to the low table, where a pretty green robe was laid out waiting for her.

"That bad, huh?" Lien gave the girl a sidelong look, the corner of her lip twitching in a smirk.

"You could say that." Jin muttered. "It's just..."

"It's what?" Lin pressed her colleague eagerly, her smile fading as Jin straightened her back, the iron dangling carelessly from one hand. With the other, Jin wiped her sweaty forehead, before biting on the knuckle, clearly looking distressed. "Jin?"

"... I can't." Jin pressed the iron to the fabric again, keeping her eyes determinedly fixed on her work. "You wouldn't understand, Lien."

"... Fine." Lien shrugged, clearly hurt. "If that's how you wanna be, then fine." She returned her full attention back to her work, jaw set in a scowl.

_I'm sorry._ Jin mentally apologized. _But I can't. I really, really can't. There's no way that you could ever understand, and I don't want you to hate me._

_I have to find out more._ Jin bit gently on the tip of her tongue in concentration. _I have to know if Zuko is the Prince of the Fire Nation. And I have to find out why he's here. Why he's banished, and where he got that scar._

_Then I can figure out what to do._ She sighed. _I want to see him again. Of course I do. He's so sweet and awkward and I don't wanna let him go. Even if he is a Prince... I don't think I care. I __**know**__ I don't care. I'm not going down that stupid ignorant road again. _

_All right._ She was hardened with resolution. _I'll find out. Everything. If Cila won't talk, then I'll go to the taverns. One of the refugee's should loosen their tongues for a few drinks. Should? Of course they will. _It was less than honest, Jin knew, but desperate times called for desperate measures, right?

_Who knew that shy Lee the tea-serving boy could cause so much damn trouble? _She would have laughed, were it not so frustrating and painful. Instead, she gritted her teeth tightly, feeling the hot sting of moisture gather in the corner of her eyes.

* * *

"You're mine now."

Zuko's hands tightened on the Dao swords as he watched the bison roar, stamping its' feel in obvious distress. Unable to quell the surge of emotions in his heart, Zuko's lips curled upwardsin a smile. _This is it. I did it. I have the bison. I'm finally going to capture the Avatar. I'm going to restore my honour. I'm going to return to my rightful place at my fathers' side. Azula will finally feel the shame that has plagued me for so many years. No more indulging this stupid facade that my Uncle insists upon. No more..._ His jaw tightened. _No more false identities.__ Now, all I have to do is take it out of here and-_

Zuko stilled at the grating sound of the opening door behind him. Tightening his grip on the swords, the teenager spun on his heel, expecting to see a Dai Li agent behind him, or, with luck, perhaps even the Avatar himself.

Iroh stood calmly in the doorway of the large stone room, hands at his sides. Zuko blinked, trying to both comprehend why the man was there and what the expression on his face meant.

"Uncle?" His shock was evident in his face. Iroh only raised an eyebrow, for a split second, a humorous glint in his eye.

"So, the Blue Spirit? I wonder who could be behind that mask?" With a sigh, Zuko pulled the blue mask away from his face, eyes lowered.

"What are you doing here?" He muttered. _Why? You can't stop me Uncle! You can't and won't! I'm not going to let you ruin my last chance!_

"I was just about to ask you the same thing." Iroh's tone rose. "What do you plan to do now that you've found the avatars bison? Keep it locked in our new apartment? Should I go put on a pot of tea for him?" There was a bite in his voice, an undercurrent of anger, and it set Zuko on edge.

"First I have to get it out here." He managed to choke, his voice thankfully remaining steady.

"And then what!" Zuko winced. _He's angry._ "You never think these things through! This is exactly what happened when you captured the avatar at the North Pole. You had him, and then you had nowhere to go!"

"I would have figured something out!" Zuko shot back defensively, a fresh hurt stabbing at his chest as the memories of the North Pole were dragged to the surface. His _failure_.

"No!" Iroh shouted in reply. Zuko was stunned. He had never seen his Uncle like this before. It was unsettling – beyond so. "His friends hadn't have found you, you would have frozen to death!" It was true. It was disgustingly true, a testament to Zuko's weakness, his failure. That no matter what happened, he'd never be able to succeed. _Well, not his time. I'm going to win. I'm going to regain my honour! I'm going to have what is mine returned to me!_

"I know my own destiny, Uncle!" Zuko retaliated, hands shaking in anger.

"Is it your own destiny?" Iroh was quick to return fire. "Or a destiny someone has tried to force on you!"

"Stop it Uncle." Zuko turned away, his voice shaking. _Why don't you understand! What is wrong with you! This __**is**__ my destiny! Here! Capturing the Avatar is my duty! _"I have to do this!"

"I'm begging you Prince Zuko!" Iroh's voice rang through the stone chamber, Appa uncharacteristically quiet. "It's time for you to look inward, and begin asking yourself the big questions. Who are you? And what do you want?"

_Who am I? I'm Prince Zuko! I'm the one who will bring the Avatar to Father! I'm the one that's going to stop the last thing standing in his way! I want my honour, my destiny, my throne! I want everything that I've lost! I want to be happy again!_

Zuko threw his swords to the ground, the mask clattering alongside. _I want to stop hating myself! I want to stop being angry. I want to be able to walk with my head held high. I want everything I deserve!_ He sank to his knees, trembling violently. _I want my childhood back. I want things to be how they were!_

_But... They never will be. _He closed his eyes, aching.

_Mother..._

_I don't need her to be happy!_ Zuko tried to convince herself. _I would have Fathers' pride, his love..._

_But he can't love. _It was a terrible blow to the teenager. _No matter how much I impressed him, he would demand more. Like he does to Azula. I don't want to become like her. Evil._

_But I wouldn't! I'm not like her, we're not even close to being similar! I wouldn't end up like her, I wouldn't be a monster! I'd be at home and I'd be happy, for the first time in nearly four damn years!_

_Happy..._ Zuko's head was in his hands. _I wasn't happy at home for a while. I was on edge for years. Ever since Mother..._

_But I would have Uncle. I miss her but I don't need her. As long as I had Uncle, it would be all right. As long as he complied with what I did here, he'll be restored, like me..._

_But if I go against him like this, why would he want to be near me? Why would he stay? Without him, and without Mother... I'd be alone..._

_What am I saying?_ He gritted his teeth. _When have I been happy here? What has made me smile? When have I thought that this place wasn't a complete prison?_

A rounded, curious face with almond-shaped eyes of hazel flashed through Zuko's mind. Hastily, he pushed the image down.

_I'm being ridiculous! I can't think... I can't begin to consider that perhaps..._

_I'd be happier... _

_What is destiny..._

_If my destiny was to capture the Avatar..._

_Then why... Does he keep escaping impossible situations? _

_If it was destiny... Wouldn't I have had him before it came to this?_

_I can't..._

_I'm __**not**__..._

A gentle hand on his shoulder jerked Zuko hastily out of his torpor. With a gasp, he he looked into the face of his uncle for a brief second, before returning his gaze to the stone floor, his tremors as strong as ever.

"Uncle..." Zuko breathed, his voice sounding creaky, disused. He winced, and tried to clear his throat, but failed.

"Yes, my nephew?" The hand on his shoulder tightened comfortingly. Zuko drew in a ragged breath, feeling oddly numb.

"...Help me release the bison." He whispered, closing his eyes. Somewhere, deep in the bowels of the labyrinth under Lake Laogai, something clanged, probably something had been dropped or shifted, but to Zuko, it sounded like the closing of a door. The closing of a future. He'd kissed it goodbye. His last chance at regaining his honour. It was the right thing, oh, he knew that well. But that didn't stop Zuko from feeling as though he were about to either throw up, or break down completely.

_I can __**never**__ go home again.

* * *

_There. I hoped that cleared up some continuity problems... At least for now, bwahaha.

Okay, but on a side note, WHO IS LOOKING FORWARD TO THE MOVIE!?

Dev Patel! Aasif Mandvi! Shoun Toab! Cliff Curtis! CLIFF FUCKING CURTIS!!!

Anwar, Aasif, Farhad, and Uncle Rangi! WOOHOO!

Yeah... It's going to suck.

Cliff Curtis -snickers- He CAN'T do a villian. If they wanted a Maori, they should have gotten Temuera Morrison. Get him go 'Jake the Muss' on the joint.

That aside, R&R?


	11. Chapter 11

Heyhey!

This is... kinda early, right? A week? No?

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Boooooo

* * *

_Oh, just go to bed already!_

Jin groaned, flopping down on her thin mattress. She could still hear her parents talking in the next room over, their voices loud enough to be heard, but not distinctly. She'd been forced to douse the candle as her parents had walked by; heading to bed, but the moonlight was plenty bright enough, making a pool of silver on the floor through the open skylight. _What are they talking about that's so damn important?_

_Me, probably._ She smirked, returning to her sitting position. _Talking about what a loose cannon I am. Seriously, what did I do that was so wrong? It was just the one damn time! I don't deserve to be punished like **this** for it! Who do they think they are, sending me to bed at nine o'clock at night? _

_They better not be talking about me... _ Frowning, Jin pulled herself up from the bed, tip-toeing silently across the room. Pushing her loose hair back, the girl pushed her ear up against the thin wall, determined to find out what couldn't wait until morning.

"... I'm telling you, we have to stop this before it gets out of hand again!"

"Renshu, be reasonable. What are you going to do, lock her up 'til the end of her days? Things like this were bound to flare back up."

"Oh, I am being reasonable, Shan. Jin's only sixteen and she's running around with boys until midnight! It-"

"Happened _once_."

"Once that we know of! You heard the way she spoke to me this morning! That was completely unacceptable!"

"It was, I agree." Shan said gently. "But what you suggested she did-"

"Come on, Shan! You know perfectly well that is exactly what she gets up to." _What! _ Jin blinked, indignant. _Ooh, I'd go in there and hit him if he wasn't right..._ "I'm sure she's spoken to _you_ about it."

"What? You think I would hide something like that from you? She has done nothing of the sort!" Jin sighed with relief. _Good save Ma._ Truth was, she'd been confiding with her mother on the subject for almost a year.

"Fine! Cover for her. But she needs to be reined in, Shan! I'm not having a repeat of last autumn. She was entirely out of control and it's going to happen again if we're not careful."

"What, are you going to forbid her from going out? From seeing anybody? She's old enough now to live alone, and she'll leave if you do that!"

"I just want her to be safe! Do you think I want her pregnant? Or arrested?"

"Do you think _I_ do? She's still my little girl, she always will be, but you have to recognize that turning her home into a jail will only push her away."

"Then what do you suppose we do, Shan? We can't let it escalate like it did again."

"Try sitting her down and talking to her like the adult she is."

"Ha! You think she would listen to either of us?"

"You're blowing this out of proportion Renshu. Look, haven't you noticed?"

"Noticed what?"

"That she's miserable! I haven't seen her smile in over a week. Something is eating her up inside."

"Maybe she-"

"Don't you _dare_ suggest that. I am being serious here. She's upset, and you want to punish her further?"

"It's for her own good. I want her home as soon as she has finished work until further notice."

"Renshu!"

"What?"

"Do you think she's just going to stay cooped up at home?"

"I don't think, I know. I'll have a good long talk with her tomorrow, and if she's behaved enough, perhaps I'll be lenient. But let's be fair here."

"Yes, lets! When was giving a sixteen-year-old girl an afternoon curfew fair? She'll hate you for this."

"Very well. But at least she'll be where we can keep an eye on her."

Jin had had enough. She lifted her head away from the wood slowly, both incredibly angry and stricken. _What is he on? Does he think that he can tell me what to do? Does he honestly think that I'm going to come home and stay in all night? What is wrong with him? _The girl let out along breath, trying to calm herself. _It's okay. All I have to do is make sure to be the sweet little sugar princess he wants when he talks to me. That's not hard, right?_

_Ugh, I just can't believe him sometimes! What's his problem? What have I done that's so bad? I'm hardly a wild child. And besides, he was my age when he had to marry Ma. How dare he say things like that about me! What a hypocrite!_

_... He's only trying to make sure I don't make the same mistakes._ Jin leaned against the wall, sighing. _Does he think I'm stupid? Does he think I don't know how to make sure that doesn't happen? _

_And Ma knows. She knows I'm upset over something... Great, I didn't realise it was that obvious._

_But it's okay. Because tonight, I'm going to find things out once and for all._ She walked over to her small bedside table, lighting the candle. _Cila was useless. Nice, but useless. Barely spoke a word all night... and Ma tried hard, too. But she just clammed up tight. And that Li kid was so quiet... Even quieter than Hai. I've never seen a child so subdued before. It was actually kinda scary._

_I understand it's bad, but it's not that horrible. _Jin pulled open the creaky drawer, extracting her comb. _I should feel even worse than I did when I found out he was a bender... Being the crown Princeof the Fire Nation... That's much, much worse. I guess, after accepting, not caring, who Zuko is, nothing more could stun me. _Jin winced as she dragged the bone comb through her hair, the teeth catching on the thick tangles. She tugged the comb through the snared locks without a respite, however, used to battling with her hair on a regular basis. _I want to see him. I will see him. But if I looked him in the eye and asked if he was the same Prince Zuko, he'd either lie or clam up and freak out. I've been through that before. If I want the truth, I'll just have to find another source._ She set down her comb, gathering her thick dark hair in one hand, groping about the drawer of junk for a hair ribbon with the other. She wound the olive-coloured accessory about the tight fistful of hair, making sure to leave a few trailing locks about her face.

_Wish I had a mirror._ Jin patted her hair self-consciously. She loosened the sash about her waist, making sure to pull the upper part of her robe apart a little more, before tying it as tightly as she could. Rootling through the nightstand, Jin searched for any spare coins she might have. She didn't want to, but would probably end up paying for a few drinks tonight, if she wanted people to talk. She found three copper coins, which found their way into the little leather pouch hidden in her dress.

_I'm ready._ She leaned down, and blew the candle out. All right, so her parents were exactly asleep yet, but Jin couldn't wait any longer. She had an hour and a half before the taverns closed, and she had to make it count. Reaching up, Jin grasped the ledge of the skylight, and with considerable effort, managed to haul herself onto the roof, keeping her footsteps as light as she possibly could.

_At least it's not cold._ Jin mused as she quietly replaced the shutters. The roof tiles were made of terracotta, a substance she knew well, and Jin was able to step effortlessly across, pausing for a moment to take in the night scene, the roofs' bathed in moonlight, the air still. It was almost pretty.

With a sigh, Jin descended down the ladder that leaned against the side of the house, down from a world of silver-brushed rooftops and into a realm of darkened back alleys.

* * *

"So I said to 'er, come at me like that again, and I'll _show_ you platypus-bear!" Jin burst into fake laughter, her hand resting on the mans' knee as she leaned in a little closer.

"Oh, you didn't!" She gasped, holding her left hand delicately over her mouth. "That is so _naughty!"_

"Well, what can I say, huh?" He was tall, but, thankfully, not solidly-built, although his thin face wore a hard smirk that twisted Jin's stomach, cold eyes the colour of stone. "She had it coming to her."

"That's still so horrible, Shiro!" Jin took another apparent gulp of her drink, although in actuality, it was just a sip. Pretences had to be withheld. "You're lucky her husband didn't attack you!"

"Ah, nah." The man waved it off. If she wan't trying to extract information from the man, Jin would have seriously considered crushing him between two large rocks. "Completely spineless."

"Oh, that's okay then." _Bastard._ Jin rested her chin on one hand. "So if that was in the Pohuai stronghold, you must have seen a lot of interesting places and people. It's a long way from here."

"Where do you think I get my great stories from?" Shiro chuckled, draining the last of his ale. "Mmm, that was good."

"Want another?" Jin suggested, forcing herself to smile. "I don't mind paying."

"Oh, go on then." Jin flashed him another smile, before flagging down the tavern owner, who threw his cloth over one shoulder, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Another drink for the gentleman." She pressed two more copper coins on the wooden tabletop.

"Certainly." The middle-aged man gave a short bow, before taking Shiro's glass, reaching under the counter.

"Gentleman!" Shiro threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, that's a good one, girl. I haven't heard that in a while."

"I'm just being polite." She said innocently, crossing one leg over the other. Just as he wanted to, the pale hem of her dress was hitched up slightly, exposing a little leg.

"Uhuh..." He took the drink that was offered to him, smacking his lips as he gulped down the majority of the liquid in one gulp. "So why're ya buying me drinks, huh?"

"No reason at all." She made sure to sugar-coat her voice. "I want to hear more of your fascinating stories." _Pig._

"Aaahh..." He looked at her somewhat calculating. "Any... particular one you wanna hear?"

"What on earth do you mean?" Jin frowned. Shiro snorted.

"C'mon, girlie." He shook his head. "You're a Ba Sing Se girl. I know you don't hear nothing of the outside world."

"Oh, all right, you caught me." Jin smiled. "I suppose I do have a hidden agenda... Of perhaps you could call it more of a... curiosity."

"Oh?" He leaned in a little, and so did she. "What exactly are you curious about?" The tavern owner was still quite close by, polishing the drinking glasses inconspicuously.

"Promise you won't think me strange?" She widened her eyes in an attempt to look more innocent, head tilting to one side.

"'Course not." He smiled, curling the corner of his lip upwards.

"Great." Jin lowered her voice. "Then... What exactly can you tell me about Prince Zuko?" She stumbled out in a somewhat rush, eyes darting side to side.

"Eh?" Shiro straightened up, one eyebrow arched. "Why d'ya wanna know?"

"I'm just curious." Jin kept an innocent look on her face, careful to make sure a flicker of nervousness didn't show through. "Sounds like an interesting story, no?"

"I... Guess." Shiro shrugged. "I only 'eard what everyone else did."

"Which was?" Jin leaned in expectantly, her heartbeat quickening.

"He was banished a few years ago from the Fire Nation by his father." That much Jin knew. _It must have been how he got his scar..._

"Why?" She asked before Shiro could get a word in, her tone a little too firm for natural curiosity, and she knew it. The tavern owner stilled in his cleaning, a frown forming on his face.

"I don't know fer sure." He shrugged again. "Musta been bad. I heard he killed a guy. Anyways, he can't go back 'til he captures the Avatar and brings him back to the Fire Nation." Jin was silent, her heart slowly sinking. "He got close a few times too. I met up with a guy who was in Chin village when it was attacked... He's burned down at least a dozen villages since winter... Hate to think how many died."

_Don't say that._ Jin felt sick. _He didn't... Couldn't..._

"H-he's sixteen, right?" Her voice was hoarse. Looking more confused than ever, Shiro nodded.

"That 'aint the end of the story." His tone darkened. "Turned out he and the old General Iroh turned against Admiral Zhao in the siege North Pole. The Fire Nation lost – thank spirits – but they escaped somehow and've been wandering around the Earth Kingdom ever since. Their reward is massive... the wealth of ten villages." Shiro paused, narrowing his eyes. "You've met the kid, haven't you?"

"No." Jin said quickly, shaking her head. "I was just curious." He regarded her suspiciously, staring her in the eye. "I swear."

"... It's an odd thing to be curious about." He said carefully. "If I find out he's in the city-"

"I haven't met him." Jin said calmly, uncomfortably aware of the tavern owner staring at her. "He may be in the city, I don't know. Truth be told, I'd heard a little of the story... I found it romantic."

"Ahhh..." He broke into a smirk. "I guess if that floats your boat..."

"Yeah, I'm pretty hopeless like that." Jin forced a smile, although her heart was pounding, a cold sweat trickling down her back. _He... He **has** hurt people... _"Thanks."

"Ah, no prob." Shiro gave a hopeful glance to his drink, but Jin made no indication that she would pay for another. "Aah, I better go. Curfew kicks in within fifteen minutes."

"Oh?" Jin blinked. "That time already? I hadn't noticed." _I was counting down the seconds._ "So... I suppose I'll see you around?"

"Mmhmm." Shiro straightened his back, stretching. "Take care." He leered at the girl. "Pretty young thing like you needs to be careful."

"Oh, I am." She said confidently as the man stood up, her false smile widening. "It was good to talk to you, Shiro."

"Likewise." He bowed his head slightly towards her, the leery expression never leaving his face. Jin sighed as he walked away, resting her head in her hands.

_It is Zuko. I knew it. And he... He has done bad things. Lots, by the sound of things..._ She closed her eyes, biting her lower lip. _Why am I surprised? I should have known, Zuko was too good to be true. Somebody so painfully sweet and awkwardly shy and handsome... With a genuine interest in me... There'd have to be some kind of catch. _

_"_You know, that _is_ an odd thing to be curious about." Jin lifted her head, staring at the tavern owner across from her. Tall, and somewhat lanky, with the narrow, mournful face that Jin was sick of seeing on every single person she met, he swung the cloth over one shoulder, finding a damp rag to mop up the ale that Shiro had spilled.

"I wasn't aware it was your business." Jin challenged, straightening herself.

"My tavern, girl. It is my business. Especially if it's illegal." He raised an eyebrow, watching as Jin lowered her gaze to the tabletop.

"I know it's an odd thing to be curious about." She said testily. "But I just was, all right? Do you give _all _your customers the third degree?"

"Just the ones who have a habit of breaking the law." He quickly countered, watching her tense. "Look. I don't mean to pry, all right? I'm just saying; watch who you talk to, and what you say."

"You think I'm stupid?" Jin stood up. "Thanks for the drinks, mister." She turned away, and left the small, dimly-lit tavern without another word.

"Problem, Minsheng?" The man blinked, turning to his brother, who had left the Pai Sho table to join him.

"The girl." Minsheng frowned. "Asking about Prince Zuko. She was real eager, too."

"You think she might be on to him?" He winced.

"Hope not, Jing." The man sighed. "After the effort it took to get them in here... Smuggling them out will be twice as hard."

"No no, we don't have to do anything of the sort." Minsheng shook his head. "We just have to keep the girl quiet."

"We don't operate like that." Jing warned his brother. "Listen, you're overthinking this. It's just an innocent girl asking innocent questions. Zuko and Grandmaster Iroh are fine. He was in here last night playing Pai Sho, for Earths' sake. If something was up, don't you think he would have said something?"

"... I suppose." Minsheng rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "I don't know. Call me paranoid, but... With the Avatar in town..."

"You are paranoid." Jing sighed. "Look, we better start getting these people out, or we'll be fined again."

"All right." Minsheng heaved himself up, stepping out from behind the bar to chase away the last few customers.

* * *

_Darkness._

_Zuko didn't know what, where he was. It was pitch black, not a single glimmer of light in sight. The ground seemed solid enough. But he knew it was a dream. The throne room, the dragons, Mother..._

_It was all a sick dream. _

_ "If we knew each other back then, do you think we could have been friends too?"_

_Behind him._

_With a gasp, Zuko turned. He knew the voice._

_"Aang." His fists crackled with fire. Not to fight, but to reveal his surroundings. As he thought, the boy stood six feet away from him, unarmed, hands at his sides. "What are you-"_

_"If we knew each other back then, do you think we could have been friends too?" The same sentence was uttered, in the same curious, optimistic tone. _

_"I don't know..." Zuko's hands clenched, the flames rising. "What is going on..."_

_"If we knew each other-"_

_"Stop **saying** that Aang!" His voice cracked. "Why? Why does it matter? Why does this matter? What's the **point** of this stupid dream?" _

_"If we-"_

_"Shut up!" Zuko grabbed his shoulders, the light extinguishing. "Shut up! I don't know Aang! I don't bloody know! Stop asking me that question!"_

_Silence. The teenager stepped back, trying to control his breathing. It was almost a full minute before the young Avatar spoke up once more, his voice timid and quavering._

_"If we knew each oth- Ah!" He screamed as Zuko erupted in fire, white-hot flames engulfing the pair. The rushing, the light, the **screaming**..._

Agni..._ Zuko gasped aloud, the thought running through his mind before the descent into fresh unconsciousness._

I called him **Aang**...

* * *

"Good evening."

Jin shot her twin the most evil look she could muster, sleeves rolled past the elbow as she crawled upon the floor on hands and knees, armed with a scrubbing brush and a pail of lukewarm soapy water.

"What?" The teenager kicked off his shoes, filling his mothers' chair by the wood stove. "Hey, this needs more coal."

"So?" Jin grumbled. "Fill it." She returned to her scrubbing, trying to remove a very muddy footprint from the worn floorboards. "I'm not a damn slave, Jiro."

"Didn't you scrub those yesterday?" Jiro pulled aside the little stove door, waving his hand effortlessly. A few handfuls of coal clanged into the stove, and he pushed it closed.

"Yep." Jin huffed angrily. "But Dad reckons I could have done a better job. So I have to do them again."

"Ooooh." The teenage boy stretched his legs, an inch or so of bony ankle sprouting from ragged-hemmed trousers. "He _is_ angry at you."

"They were talking about me last night." Jin muttered angrily, scrubbing the boards with significant force. "While the rest of the house was asleep."

"Really?" Jiro raised an eyebrow. "Was it glowing praise, or..."

"It was 'or...'." Jin threw the brush into the bucket, leaning back and resting on her knees. "They're talking about locking me up in my room."

"What?" Jiro was startled. "Literally? Or do you just have an early curfew."

"Just an early curfew." Jin rubbed at her eyes. "But that's just as bad..." She dipped a hand in the filled bucket. "Too cold." She made a face, standing up with a sigh. "Need to put more on..."

"Where's Ma anyways?" Jiro asked, watching as his sister put a fresh pot of water on the stove. "Out?"

"Buying food for dinner." Jin walked to the open window, dumping the dirty, cold water onto the street. "She'll be back in half an hour or so."

"Hai?"

"Went to see Uncle Shirong about the apprenticeship." There was only a little water left in the large basin beside the pantry – she would have to get more afterward. "Be back by nightfall."

"Chang?"

"Dunno. Out frolicking in a muddy ditch, probably." Jin tried to hide a yawn behind her hand, and failed. "Ugh."

"Man, you need to sleep more." The boy shook his head. "Don't tell me you went out again last night."

"Maybe." Jin said uncomfortably. "It's not your business, is it?"

"Do you _want_ to be locked up for the rest of your life?" Jiro shook his head. "Is this about Lee?"

"What?" Jin frowned. "What makes you think that?"

"Because you're only like this when there's a boy involved." He said patiently, watching as the water on the stove started to heat. "He really must set your heart racing if you're putting yourself in this much trouble." The last comment was a teasing joke, but it struck Jin, who looked, to be honest, close to tears.

"Yeah." Jin sank into her fathers' seat, head in her hands. "It is... I just... I don't know what to do."

"Whoo boy." He sighed. "Are you going to tell me, or are you just gonna mope about it?"

"It's hard." Jin mumbled. "He's got a dark past. He's hurt people."

"Stay away." Jiro's eyes widened in alarm. "What are you, stupid? Mixing up with trouble? What if he's a criminal? You could be arrested for fraternising with him." Jin sighed. _You have no idea just how much of a criminal he is..._

_"_I can't do that. I know I should stay away, but I can't. I like him too much. And he's so..." Jin straightened up in the chair, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. "On our first date, he dressed nicely and did his hair." She hoped it would encapsulate Zuko's unintentional effort and awkward kindness.

"What?" It did. "On the first date? What, did you sneak into the theatre or something? What kind of geek..." Jiro snorted. "He was trying to impress you, then."

"He wasn't." Jin shook her head. "That's the thing. He... I don't quite know his intentions. But he wasn't trying to impress me. He was genuine, Jiro. He is genuine. I don't know what to do."

"I still say run a mile." The boy sighed and stood up. "But when did you ever listen to me, huh?" He shot the girl a smile. "I'm gonna get changed and go out for a bit, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah." Jin grumbled, taking the water off the stove and sloshing it into her bucket. Cold water and soap followed, the liquid frothing as Jin vigorously stirred it with a hand. "Have a good time."

"I'll try not to have too much fun without you." Jiro grinned before leaving the room, Jin getting back onto her knees with a long sigh.

_Jiro doesn't understand. Why did I think he would? He's a typical loudmouthed boy, that's hardly going to change is it? All he ever wants from a relationship is fun and ability to jump into bed. _

_Everyone is like that. Everyone I've ever gone out with, all my friends, my family, they're all like that. Oh sure, some make the pretence of being virtuous and decent, but they're not. Zuko is so completely different. I understand why now though... Being a Prince would have ground the whole honour and glory thing into his head pretty hard. And the whole Prince thing... It's a bit scary, but so... Oddly thrilling. _

_He's a Prince, but more than that, he's a Prince who's **interested** in me. Who cares. I know it's dangerous, and I know that he's the enemy, but..._ She sighed, her hands pausing on the scrubbing brush. _What girl hasn't had some sort of fantasy where she's courted and falls in love with a prince? _

_I know it's not just that simple. He might be a prince but he's an exiled, banished prince, with the entire world against him. _

_He must feel so lonely..._

Jin sighed. It was so romantic, in its' own strange, twisted way. A young man, banished from his homeland and sent on an impossible quest... _Or maybe I'm just weird... _

_I got issues._ She frowned at the floorboards. _I mean... If that's my idea of romantic... What am I going to think next, that he desperately needs to find that special someone to melt his icy heart?_

_... What annoys me is that I actually believe that._ Jin almost laughed. _I'm so deluded! As if he would ever be interested if I didn't ask him out. Scratch that, if I didn't push him into taking an interest. I don't understand why... I mean, maybe if he was into **that**, I would understand, but I highly doubt it. Not somebody as shy and awkward as he is. So then why is he giving a damn? I'm not funny or smart or interesting to talk to..._

"Well, I'm off." Jiro walked into the little room, breaking Jin from her increasingly agonised thoughts. "I probably won't be back for dinner."

"Okay, I'll set some aside for you." Jin said distractedly, sitting back on her knees. Jiro rifled through the cupboards, seizing the cooking pot and holding it to the light, trying to see his reflection. "Hey Jiro?"

"Hm?" He was still checking himself out, running a moistened thumb over his eyebrows.

"What is it about me that boys like?" She looked over at her twin brother, who lowered the vessel, confused. "What?"

"Because you're..." He sighed. "You know why. I'm not saying it."

"I'm what?" Jin pressed. "Be honest Jiro, please."

"You know..." He said uncomfortably. "You're... Yeah."

"Easy." Jin muttered. Jiro winced.

"Well, that's a _bit _harsh..."

"No, it's not." She groaned. "I know that, Jiro. And I know I've gotten a bit of a reputation for it. But it's not like I can help it! I just-"

"I am _not_ discussing this with you." He was alarmed. "Look, what's with the insecurity? It..." Jiro paused. "Lee?"

"Ugh! Why does everything have to be about Lee?" Jin threw the scrubbing brush into the bucket of cooling water.

"Because it is?" Jiro suggested. "Look, what's so great about the guy? He sounds like a complete geek to me."

"You don't get it." Jin shook her head. "It's just... He's the first guy in... I don't even know how long who likes me for me... But I don't even know what 'me' is."

"What do you mean?" Jiro frowned.

"You know... What makes me different from everyone else. Why anyone would give a crap?"

"What are you talking about?" His frown deepened. "Of course you're different. You're the only girl I know who's willing to roll her sleeves up."

"Yeah, but-"

"You put up a damn good fight. You eat like an ostrich-horse. You can outdrink full-grown men, you're a natural bender, you're willing to get in a heap of trouble at any opportunity, you-"

"Those aren't good things!" She protested with a scowl.

"They aren't?" He shrugged. "Well, I think they are. No one wants to date a girl who acts like a complete princess. Look, I gotta go, okay? I said I'd meet the guys ten minutes ago."

"Yeah, all right..." Jin nodded. "Have fun." She stared at the floor as Jiro left, her mind ticking.

_Yeah, but... Isn't that someone Zuko would want? Someone who is ladylike and well-mannered and stuff? _

_I don't know. This is pointless. And it's doing my head in. _She fished the scrubbing-brush from the water, returning to her work.

_I know one thing._ She thought wryly. _If I was involved with a Prince, I'm sure I wouldn't be wasting my time with this scrubbing..._

_

* * *

_

_Ugh._

Zuko cracked his eyes open, and then closed them again, trying in vain to stop the whirling in his head.

"You should know this is not a natural sickness." Iroh's gentle voice jarred uncomfortably in his head. Zuko was vaguely aware of his uncles against the back of his head, coaxing him to sit up a little. With considerable effort, the teenager opened his eyes properly, his vision still a little fuzzy. "But that shouldn't stop you from enjoying tea." The rim of the cup pressed against his lips, Zuko took a small sip.

"Wh-What's happening?" He managed to stutter out weakly, trying to focus on his uncle. _I know it's not normal... Those dreams... the dragons and the throne room... And Mother... and Aa- the Avatar... I've never had dreams so vivid before..._

"Your critical descision." Was there a hint of a smile on Iroh's lips? "What you did beneath that lake, it was in such conflict with your image of yourself, that you are now at war within your own mind and body." Again, the teacup was pushed to his lips, and again, Zuko took a sip.

"What's that mean?" The teenager frowned a little, trying to understand. It was hard to do so with his head in such a pounding, whirling state. He coughed, lungs burning, and slumped back onto the mattress, the last remnants of energy spent.

"You are going through a metamorphosis, my nephew. It will not be a pleasant experience." _Great_. Zuko thought wearily, feeling as though his head had been stuffed with straw. "But when you come out of it..." The teenager relaxed a little as the cooling damp cloth pressed against his burning skin. "You will be the beautiful prince you were always meant to be." Zuko gave a light groan in response, the floating sensation of rapidly approaching sleep already starting to hit him.

"I am so proud of you, my nephew." Iroh murmured after a minute of silence. The young man gave a light snore in reply.

* * *

The moment she stepped into the tea shop, Jin knew something was up. Perhaps it was the sombre, slumped-shouldered posture of Pao, who looked even more doleful than ever as he dished the tea into an elderly woman's cup. Maybe it was the significant drop in customers – where the tables were once crowded with chattering people, a few lonesome figures were bent sadly over their half-empty cups, looking wistfully into the little china mugs. But it was most likely the fact that both Zuko and his uncle were nowhere to be seen.

"Hello, Pao." She looked confused, a little suspicious as she approached the man. He looked up,beaming at one of his favourite regulars.

"Hello, Jin!" He smiled, straightening his apron. "Will it be another Jasmine this afternoon?"

"Um, yeah." Jin frowned. "Uh.. Pao, do you think you could tell me... Uh... where's Lee?" She finally stammered out, trying to peer past the tea-shop owner into the little back room.

"Pah! Don't speak to me about either of them!" Pao snapped. "Some merchant from the Upper Ring swooped down and poached them!" Jin froze. "Fancy new apartment and everything! Betrayers, the pair of them!"

"What?" She murmured faintly. "He's... gone?"

"Good riddance to bad rubbish!" Pao was clearly still smarting from his rejection. "You'll never see _them_ in the lower ring again." He rubbed his hands together. "Now... Let me see about that tea..." He turned back to Jin, but only caught the hem of her dress as she tore through the front door, bursting back into the street. "Argh!" He bemoaned, hefting the empty teapot in his hands. "I'll never keep another customer without Mushi!" Pao slipped into the back room, heavy-hearted.

Meanwhile, Jin was almost sprinting down the wide main street, her mind racing_. Upper ring... What do I do now? When on earth did this happen? _

_All right. I'm going to see Zuko. Nothing is going to stop me, especially not a few snooty walls and those pain-in-the-neck Dai Li's. _She raised her gaze to the sky, trying to judge the time from the suns' position in the sky. _It's Friday._ Jin frowned. _Jiro finishes early today, usually. When he finishes, he goes and hangs out with the boys' in the little square behind the eastern marketplace. _ She started to walk again, a quick, erratic pace. _He's free with his earthbending around them – bordering on arrogant, really – so he can help. _

_I was supposed to be home straight after work, but I don't care. I'm through with that. If Dad's going to refuse to listen to reason, how is that my fault? Besides, they'd get over it eventually. _Jin was pushing her luck, she knew. _But if I'm home before Dad's finished work, Ma might cover for me... I hope. I'll throw caution to the wind. _The desire to see Zuko was too great. It was all she could do to not try and see him yesterday, but after talking with her father the night beforehand – and the subsequent breakdown in communication that ended with a shouting match and an angry march to her room – Jin didn't think it was a very good idea to disobey him directly after such a confrontation, but she thought that perhaps two days was enough for the dust to settle. It wasn't really, and Jin knew it, but she was just too anxious to care. It wasn't just the need to confront him, to clear the air and explain that she knew everything and couldn't care less; it was the simple want to see him again. _Dammit._ She was falling, head over heels, and she knew it.

"Hey." She stepped into the little courtyard with a wave and a smile. Six figures stilled in docile conversation, the exhausted boys attempting to turn towards her. As she predicted, Jiro tried to sit up, but failed, showing vague interest, while her relative Sheng gave a weak wave, but the other four started, straightening their clothes as they sat up, making sure hair was well-placed.

"Jin?" Sprawled out on the tiled floor, Jiro propped himself up on one elbow. "What's up? Aren't you meant to be at home."

"Screw Ma and Dad." She announced boldly, walking towards the boys. "I need your help, Jiro."

"What do you need help with, Jin?" It was the astonishingly tall and gangly Ping who spoke, the male giving her a grin. He still liked her? _Oh great..._

"I need to get to the upper ring." His interest caught, Jiro sat up, frowning slightly.

"Why..." He said slowly, the expression deepening. Jin sighed.

"Because." Why lie? "Lee got a job there." Her brother blinked. "I know. His uncle was given a tea shop in the upper ring. I need to talk to him. Now. I can't wait any longer."

"Upper ring, huh?" Sheng spoke up. "Fancy."

"Yeah." Jiro snorted. "He'll find a new girl, wouldn't he? I mean, why date a peasant when you can-"

"Hey, shut _up!" _Jin cut in warningly. "Don't be an idiot Jiro. Look, will you help me or not?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll help." He sighed, pulling himself into a standing position. "Anyone else interested?"

"Yeah, okay." Sheng stood up. "As long as we don't get caught. I've only had one warning and I wanna keep it that way."

"Yeah, I'm on my last, so keeping low would be a good idea." Jiro agreed. "I'll do my best, don't worry."

"I'll go too." Guo, a stocky workmate of Jiro's, offered. "Not much else to do."

"No way man." Ping was startled. "I'm on my last chance, and I'm not messing it up for something like that. It's a high penalty, sneaking into the upper ring." The other two boys nodded in agreement.

"Fine." Jiro shrugged. "Okay, where shall we meet?"

"What do you mean?" Jin frowned. "We're all here, aren't we?"

"You're still in your work clothes." Jiro pointed out. "You wanna meet this guy in the upper ring wearing _that?"_

"I have no choice." Jin sounded regretful. "If I go home, Ma'll load work on me and I won't be able to leave. It's okay. Lee won't mind." _I hope. _

"All right." The boy shrugged. "Your funeral." He started to walk out of the square, giving a quick wave to the three figures who remained slouched along the ground. "You really like this guy, don't you?"

"Yeah..." Jin said fondly, cheeks flushing a little.

"I mean... Seriously. You're risking a hell of a lot here. I mean, I know the chances of us getting caught are almost nil, but still. And you're going to invoke the wrath of our parents when we get back. You haven't been this much of an idiot to anyone else before."

"I know." She murmured. "I do like him a lot, okay?" Jin walked between her brother and her mothers' cousins' son, her heartbeat already increasing in anticipation. _Crap... I do don't I..._She looked down at her dress, sighing deeply. _Ugh, I'd kill for something decent to wear..._ Jin poked at a hole in the skirt somewhat morosely.

_Oh well. At least he'll finally get to see dirt-cheap Jin without the pretentious clothing._ It was true; the dress she normally wore was far classier than the rags of the peasantry, _almost_ passable for perhaps a servant in the middle ring. Self-consciously, her hands went to her hair, tugging the little tie from her locks. She'd comb it with her fingers and perhaps it would look a little less-

"Oh _crap!"_ She pulled the broken tie from her hair, scowling. "Well, that's just _great_, isn't it?"

"What?" Jiro looked over at his sister. "What happened?"

"It broke." She threw the useless thing away, heart sinking. "Great." She mumbled, desperately smoothing her hair. "Just great..."

"We can go tomorrow." Jiro suggested, but even as he started speaking, Jin was shaking her head, resolution set.

"No. So what if I'm not my best? Trust me, Lee won't care. He'll just be happy to see me." _ I hope..._

_I just hope I'm not going to make a fool of myself. _She cast another regretful, nervous look down at her patched, faded dress.

* * *

_Hmmm..._

Katara paused outside the large tea shop, the low stone building taking precedence in the sun-filled square. Casting a quick gaze to the sun, in an attempt to judge the time, she turned to the lemur perching comfortably on her shoulder.

"What do you say, Momo?" Katara considered. "A cup of tea before we get back to the King?" Momo chirruped on her shoulder, and the girl rubbed his head fondly._ Although..._ She looked down at the scroll in her hand, biting her lip. _These are highly important documents... I said I'd deliver them right away... I'm sure a cup of tea can wait._

"How about on the way back, hm?" She turned away from the tea shop, Momo's ears lowering. "Awww, I'm sorry Momo, but this is really important." Katara scratched the little lemur behind the ear. "How about we see if the Earth King has any nuts to spare? I know you love those."

Momo have a happy chirrup.

* * *

So now it's (officially) AU... And the ball will (finally) get rolling on the action front!

I honestly never wanted it to take this long... I feel really bad... But it was all necessary.

Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed to read more of Thomas More's _Utopia_ (Slow read, but most definitley worth it)... The way I spend my Friday nights...

R&R!

* * *


	12. Chapter 12

Wooot update!

Yeah... You know how I said there would be action? Err... There's a little PLOT, if that counts.

Let's be fair. This is a long chapter. And I can't write anymore because I have my end-of-term finals for university, so it was either having this now, or waiting til the end of the month and getting another two or three thousand words added.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

* * *

"You sure this is the place?"

"Positive." The four teenagers stared at the large tea shop across the square, trying to keep themselves as inconspicuous as possible. "Jasmine is Mushi's favourite tea; it makes sense to name the shop after it. Besides, it's the only one that's opened up recently, dummy."

"Yeah, yeah." Jiro rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "Okay. You got an hour. Meet us back right here, and don't you dare be late."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Jin smiled. "What are you guys going to do while you wait?"

"Ah, you know, wander around, petty theft, check out the noblemen's daughters, just harmless fun." Her brother teased. "Just go and get your lover-boy."

"Oh, whatever." Jin made a sound of disgust, turning away from the boys. She stroked her hair for what felt like the fiftieth time, making sure that it wasn't _too_ wild, and began threading her way through the scattered crowd of people. She hadn't been in the upper ring for two and a half years – she'd forgotten just how _different_ it was. So much more open, and airy, without the noise, the smells the claustrophobic closeness, of the lower ring. Personally, she found it a little unnerving – and her anxiety was only heightened as she looked at the fine robes and elaborate headdresses of the noblewomen around her. _How can I compete..._

_All right._ She watched as a nobleman and his wife stepped into the shop, the two greeting girls bowing to meet them. _Zuko sure is keeping respectable company now..._ She cast another despairing look down at her dress. _I should have just sneaked in and changed! I look like such a fool! Calling in on such a fine shop wearing rags..._

_I can't afford to dodder around at the entrance._ Jin took a breath, trying to steel herself. _ I don't have all day. _ Straightening herself, the girl climbed the wide stone stairs, passing through the threshold of the tea shop.

"May we help you?" It was the girl on the left who spoke, the arched eyebrow on a pale-painted face looking unnatural against her pretty features. Jin froze, and forced a smile, eyeing the well-polished girls' robe. _I probably washed that..._

"No thanks, I'm okay." Jin stepped completely into the tea shop, mouth falling open. _Wow_. It was easily the most luxurious room she'd ever been in, with a high beamed ceiling, ornate windows, and a thick rug draped across the pristine tiles. She felt more out of place than ever as she stared at the customers, sipping the tea delicately through pursed lips. Tea she enjoyed a couple of weeks ago for less than a quarter of the current price.

_There he is._ Zuko's back was to her, clutching a tray of empty china mugs. Jin couldn't see his face, but would recognize that untidy mop of dark hair – so strikingly different than the long braid and shaved hairline of every other man - anywhere.

"Lee." Her voice was weaker than she would have liked, but it was enough. Not recognizing who spoke, Zuko turned, thinking at first it was one of the girls who stood in the doorway. When he saw that it was Jin who stood before him, a nervous smile on her face, Zuko gasped, the tray slipping from his hands, crashing loudly to the floor. Painfully aware that the entire store was now looking at her, Jin blinked, keeping the smile on her face. Zuko looked positively stunned, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. He looked so cute, that Jin's tiny, nervous smile dissolved, and she burst into giggles, hiding her mouth behind a hand.

"Wh-Wh..." He stammered, watching dumbly as Jin crouched down, picking up the shards of china and placing them on the tray.

"I went to Pao's after I finished work." Zuko was still for a moment before recognition dawned, and he joined the girl, picking up the broken pieces. Jin noticed his hands were trembling slightly. "He said that you and your uncle opened up a new shop in the upper ring." She took the tray and straightened up, feeling much, much more relaxed. After seeing Zuko's nervous reaction, it was actually hard not to. _I think he's happy to see me... Or is he just stunned?_ "So... I snuck in here with some friends and tried to find you."

"O-Oh." Zuko's voice sounded strangled.

"You look like possum-cat cornered by a dog." Jin teased, setting the tray down on an empty table. "Say something, Lee."

"I-I..." Zuko swallowed, trying again. "I... Didn't... th-think I'd see you..."

"I'll take that as a you're glad to see me." Something in Jin's stomach flipped. _What do you mean... Does he not wanna speak to me again? He can't... _"Look, can we talk?" She lowered her voice. "It's important."

"Yeah..." Zuko took her hand, the girl noticing his palms were sweating, and began leading her through the shop. Aware that they were still given confused looks by the fine patrons, Jin kept her eyes fixed on Zuko, a blush rising. He led her through a wide doorway and into the back kitchen, where Iroh, bent over a pot of tea, looked up.

"Jin!" He beamed, positively delighted to see her. "What a pleasant surprise!"

"Mr. Mushi." She gave a short bow, Zuko still clinging to her hand. "It's great to see a store finally befitting your wonderful tea."

"Thank you Jin." He watched as Zuko opened the door leading to the tiny back courtyard. It wasn't much by upper ring standards, just a bench against the high stone wall, which was thick with vines and creepers. A tiny pond, not six feet across, lay in the middle, three koi fish darting in amongst the weed. Jin thought it was the most peaceful little site, and inwardly resolved that, one day, she would have a something identical in her own back yard.

"I know you didn't expect this." She murmured as Zuko closed the door, staring at his back. "I didn't mean to surprise you, but-"

"I meant what I said, Jin." He mumbled. "You don't want to get yourself tangled up in someone like me. You'll only get hurt. You can't-"

"Do you like me?" She cut over him, hands on her hips. Zuko paused.

"What...?"

"You heard." Jin said firmly. "Do you like me?" Zuko turned around slowly, but still couldn't look the girl in the eye. "Zuko?"

"Yes. Of course." He murmured. "A lot. But Jin-"

"Well, that's good to know." She cut over the teenager, walking towards him. "Zuko..." She grabbed his hands. He tensed, but eventually relaxed. "It's _my _decision whether or not I want to jeopardize my relationship with my friends and family. Which, by the way, isn't going to happen if I'm dating you. I'm not going to tell them, and I hardly think you will-"

"These things come out-"'

"-If you're not careful." Jin finished abruptly. "Can I continue?" Zuko bit his lip, and nodded. "So that's not what the problem is here." She took a deep breath. "You're afraid because you still have secrets." She felt his hands tighten, and his jaw set. "There's still some things that you think are so awful you could never bring yourself to admit." The way he kept his gaze firmly out of her field of vision was self-explanatory. She took a breath. "Don't you, _Prince_ Zuko?" He froze, eyes locked with Jin, hands so tense that his nails dug painfully into her skin.

"Wh... H-ho... D..." Zuko tried to speak, but all that issued from his lips were garbled fragments of words. Jin gently disentangled one hand from his, placing her fingertips against his shaking lips.

"A new woman started working with me a couple of days ago." She said gently, hoping her words would soothe the horror so evident in his eyes. "Cila. You may remember her little boy Li. You saved him from a group of Earth Kingdom thugs." Recognition dawning, Zuko nodded. "She spoke of you. You had the same name and age... Making the connection wasn't hard." She removed her hand from his mouth, resting her fingers on his wrist, but didn't allow him to continue. "I had to know... I only learned a little from Cila, and I knew I could never ask you, so I asked around. People are informative if you go to the right place at the right time."

"O-Oh..." Zuko said rather lamely, his gaze sliding away from Jin, and into the pond.

"Yeah. I'm so sorry Zuko..."

"Me too."

"You never let me finish." Jin sighed. "I'm sorry that you've had to go through what you did." She gently took his chin. "Look at me." With a sigh, he obeyed. "But listen to me. It hadn't made me like you any less."

"R-Really?" His voice was painfully hoarse, and he tried to clear his throat, not removing his gaze from Jin's eyes.

"'Course not silly." She smiled. "Zuko, I don't care if you're the Prince of the Fire Nation or a dirty thief or anything in between. I care about you as a person." She shook her head. "That concept is so foreign to you, isn't it?"

"I... K-Kinda, yeah..." Zuko was still trying to get his head around it. _She knows... And doesn't care... How? If she knew what I'd done, then she wouldn't feel like that. She didn't get all the facts. Someone lied to her. They must have..._ "But... what I've done..."

"Hasn't been pretty." Jin winced. "I know. The hunt for the Avatar, the villages you burned down... And the North Pole."

"Then how?" Zuko was baffled. "How... If you know what I've done, how many people I've hurt, how can you like me? How can you want to keep seeing me? How can-"

"Look, can you just shut up?" Jin's smile widened. "I _don't care_, you idiot. You've got a confused past. Who doesn't? You committed evil deeds because you were desperate to regain your fathers' affection. Believe me, I get it. Look, doesn't your Uncle love you, despite everything?"

"Yes, but... That's different." Zuko shook his head. "He's family. He's always been on my side. He's Fire Nation, like me. He understands."

"And I don't?" Jin sighed. "Okay, I'll admit, I freaked when I first found out. But it was just the shock. And hearing all those horrible stories from the refugee's about the carnage that they're wreaking on the land-"

"Which I contributed to!"

"Okay, seriously, _Shut up."_ She wanted to hit him. "I'm trying to tell you that I'm not holding a grudge against you for what you've done in the past. I'm trying to tell you that I care about you, Zuko. I'm trying to tell you that race and status doesn't matter a damn to me."

"Because you don't understand-"

"I do understand!" Jin cut in. "Zuko, stop being a prat and _listen_ to me! I wanna be with you. You're gorgeous, sweet, adorably awkward, and a hundred other names that would probably bore you. You're so unlike everybody else. And that's not because you're a Prince with a dark past, it's because you're... You." She sighed. "I'm not explaining myself well at all..." Jin disentangled her hands from Zuko's, biting a thumbnail. "Look. Let me try again. You're so tangled up in who you should be and who you want to be that you don't realise that you're such a catch that your flaws are... insignificant in comparison."

"You... Think that?" Of course he'd be confused. "R-Really?" The look of bewilderment on his face was actually saddening to the girl.

"Zuko, aside from your Uncle, when was the last time anyone ever said anything nice to you?" _Oh, the poor thing... No wonder he's being so thick. _Zuko lowered his gaze, giving a weak shrug.

"I don't know... My mother? I can't remember... Wh-" Zuko blinked as Jin wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a tight embrace. "What are you doing..."

"Hugging you, silly." Her voice was muffled slightly by his clothing. "Just shut up and hug me back."

"... You like telling me to shut up." Zuko felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips, despite himself. Increasingly conscious of a warm feeling rising in his stomach, the teenager obediently wrapped his arms about her waist loosely, still feeling a little uncertain.

"Because you have a habit of saying stupid things." Jin sighed. "I mean, here I am, trying to complement you, and you're putting yourself down." It was... Sad.

"... Yeah." Zuko mumbled as Jin pulled back. "I know... I guess everyone else is wearing off on me."

"Then don't let them." Jin argued. "Look." She took his hands. "Who gives a crap what other people think? I learned a long time ago that agonizing over what other people think is only going to cause you pain. You have to keep your head up and turn the other cheek."

"I do that." Zuko muttered. "_Trust_ me, I don't care about what people think."

"Then why is your self-esteem in the bottom of your shoes, hm?" Jin tightened her gentle grasp. "Because secure people usually don't contradict someone if they're trying to compliment them."

"Yeah, well." Zuko yanked his hands free, walking past Jin and pausing beside the little pond. "It's not that simple."

"Then tell me." Jin pleaded. "Tell what it is that's eating you away like this. Open up. I'm not going to think any less of you, Zuko. I lo-" She caught herself just in time, eyes widening. "I really care about you." Jin rushed out, acutely aware of her heart doing flip-flops in her chest.

"I know." Zuko raked his fingers through his hair, tugging on the ends a little. He'd noticed the catch in her words, and had a strong suspicion of what it was that almost slipped out. "I kind of figured that out when you went through all this trouble to track me down."

"So you'll tell me?" She said hopefully, stepping forward, and taking one hand. He turned to her wordlessly, staring at her for a few seconds, before shifting his gaze back to the koi pond. Jin deflated, but when she felt his fingers curl around hers, her heart skipped a beat. She tentatively rested her head on his shoulder, staring as a silvered koi threaded itself through the weed. "The fish are pretty."

"We didn't have fish." Zuko's voice was soft, the tone suggesting that he had drifted into a vague memory. "We had turtleducks." Jin craned her neck slightly, looking up at the teenager, noticing that, although his eyes were on the koi, his mind behind them was long gone. "I fed them with Mum. They used to eat bread straight from her hand."

"Wow. I couldn't do that." Jin murmured. "They'd probably get scared... Or I wouldn't be patient enough..."

"I hope they're all right." Zuko mumbled. "Azula probably did something horrible to them after I left..."

"Azula?" She tried the name out on her tongue. Jin felt Zuko tense further. "Sibling?"

"Little sister." Zuko stepped away from the girl, walking towards the wooden bench. Jin watched as he sat down, resting his forehead on clasped hands. "She's better than me in every way. That's why my father liked her and hated me."

"I'm sure he didn't _hate_ you." Jin took a seat next to Zuko, a hand on his shoulder. "That's a bit harsh, isn't it?"

"Is it?" Zuko looked up at her. "He did this." He gestured at his scar, before returning his gaze to the cobblestones, Jin frozen.

"What?" She breathed, aghast. _How could anyone..._ "When? How? Wh-_Why?_"

"So you didn't hear everything?" Zuko murmured. "Maybe it's not very public knowledge." He heaved a long sigh, leaning against the stone wall, neck craned up to stare at the sky. "It was part of my punishment." There was a low, bitter tone to his voice, sharper than Jin had ever heard him speak. "To make sure I never forgot."

"O-Oh..." Jin kept her eyes on her lap, unable to bear looking at it. _That's just sick... No wonder Zuko's a mess, with a monster like that for a father..._ "What..." She swallowed, trying to approach the subject as tactfully as she could. "What did..."

"I do?" Zuko kept his gaze heavenward. "To deserve torture and exile at thirteen years old?"

"Yeah." _It must have been really really bad..._ "The... person I spoke to... Thought you killed someone." She gave a quick peek, out of the corner of her eye to judge his reaction.

"I almost wish." His tone was cold. "If I had, it wouldn't have been so bad." Jin's eyes widened. "You want to know what I did?" She nodded emphatically. "I spoke out of turn at a war meeting. I protested that it was unfair to send a division of new recruits against a troop of veteran earth-benders to create a diversion."

"A-and?" She breathed, shocked. _Of course that's unfair? I know I have no knowledge of war, but even I know that's sick and wrong... _

"And nothing." Zuko closed his eyes, sighing. "That was enough to enrage my rather. He takes respect very, very seriously. He ordered me to fight him, and when I refused..." The teenager trailed off. The conclusion was obvious.

"That's..." Jin shook her head. "What kind of sick bastard would do that?"

"I know." Zuko sat forward, head bowed. "You know what's so pathetic?"

"No?" Jin squeaked, scooting closer to the teenager, hand on his shoulder tightening.

"All these years..." His voice was shaking. "I thought I deserved it."

"_What?"_ Jin gasped. "How could you _ever_ think that? Nobody deserves that. _Nobody_. Especially when they're just a kid! No wonder you're a mess." The last sentence was an afterthought, one she didn't mean to utter aloud, but she did, much to her mortification. "I-I mean, I-"

"It's okay." Zuko sighed. "You're right. I am a bit of a mess. But I'm better. Trust me, I'm a lot better."

"I noticed you were happier today." Jin noted with a small smile. "But Zuko... please don't think that I'm on this crusade to try and fix your broken heart and teach you how to love again or anything pathetic like that. I'm not. I swear. I mean. It sucks, so much, and I'm so sorry that you had to go through that, but I-"

"I understand." Zuko nodded. "You wanted to know. I would too. I guess it's a pretty interesting story."

"I won't ever bring it up. I swear." Jin promised. "Unless you want to, I mean... But, I'm not saying you have to, or... Ugh." She wrinkled her nose. "Sorry. That sounded really bad." Zuko bit back a smile. "Um... Look..." She tried again, the teenager straightening up, turning to regard her. "I... Well... So... Does this mean that we're back on?" She rushed out, aware of her face flaming in an embarrassing blush.

"... Yeah." Zuko's lips twitched, he was trying to hide the same nervous smile that the girl was wearing. "Jin, you..." He trailed off, staring down at his interwoven fingers. With a sigh, he lifted his head, staring at the girl in the unbound hair and ragged dress, who had risked her very liberty just to find and talk to him. Who knew, everything, and didn't _care._

She loved him.

Even if she had kept her mouth shut, not let that one half-word slip, Zuko still would have figured it out. Well, perhaps, if his self-confidence was a little stronger. After all, nobody would have gone through so much effort, covered up a secret so big, if they didn't, right?

"Yeah?" She curled her toes inside her worn shoes, the seams falling apart, her face heating in a blush. Zuko broke into a wide smile, and shook his head, chuckling to himself. "What?" Jin challenged indignantly, but the features were pulled taut with joy, not anger.

"... I don't even know." Zuko confessed. "You're... Really something. You know that?"

"I've heard." She shrugged, the smile fixed on her face. "Liang, A boy I went out with for a couple of months last year said I was as cheap as dirt and twice as filthy." Zuko's eyes widened, and Jin chuckled, shaking her head.

"Why... Why would anyone say that?" Zuko demanded. "What kind of person is that disrespectful?"

"Oh, everyone here." Jin said mildly. "I was angry at first when he said that... Now I laugh. It's the sort of label that you can apply to almost everyone in the lower ring. I'm sure even you've heard things about the girls in Ba Sing Se, Zuko."

"Not..." He paused with a frown, his mind drifting back to a warm afternoon in a tiny coastal village... When he was a vagrant, a wanderer. _But the girls in the city_... _they look so pretty... They kiss so sweet... _"But that was just a stupid song."

"Still." Jin shrugged. "I've done things that I'm not proud of. I mean, who hasn't, right?" She looked oddly downcast, so much so, that Zuko shuffled over a little to the left, one arm draped around her thinly clothed shoulders.

"What's in the past can't be changed." Zuko murmured. "Agni, I wish it could. I thought you were the one who said it was the here and now that mattered." Jin leaned into the boy's shoulder. "Hm?"

"I know." Jin mumbled. "It's hard to do that when you damn parents hold it against you, though."

"I'm sure they only care." Zuko pointed out.

"I know they do, and it's sweet, but, forcing me to come home straight after work and do chores all afternoon and evening is a _little_ on the strict side." Zuko snickered. "What?" She insisted in a huff, frowning.

"Sorry." Zuko straightened his face. "I tried to imagine _my_ father grounding me and giving me chores." His features gave way to the smile again. "Or sending me to my room. I know I shouldn't laugh, but it's a somewhat funny thought."

"I'm sure you've been scolded before though. What about your Uncle, he's been looking after you, right?" She enjoyed this. Simple, pleasant banter, about him, his life. And he did with a smile on his face. Jin knew, from the relaxed look on Zuko's face, how comfortable he was with her. _We're going to be fine..._

"You kidding?" Zuko raised an eyebrow. "I'm – I was – a Prince. Uncle Iroh was a General. I'm a hell of a lot younger but I outranked him. He legally couldn't scold me." _Although he has done it since..._ "But I listen to his advice, of course. I'm not a complete spoiled brat." _Anymore._

_Uncle Iroh. General Iroh. The Dragon of the West._ Jin kept her face calm. _That... Makes sense. Mr. Mushi is the same man that tried to invade my city seven years ago. I take it along with Zuko he's a different person... Of course he is. He's the nicest, wisest old man I've ever met. _To hold it against him would be like begrudging Zuko for his past wrongdoings. She'd never do it. _Any more secrets I should know about, Zuko?_ She thought, fighting back a sigh. Secretly, she was amazed her hair hadn't gone grey with the stress and shock of this. _But..._ She gently nuzzled Zuko's neck, a hand on his knee. The teenage boy let out a strangled gasp at the contact, his blush returning. _It's so worth it._

"Calm down." She giggled, Zuko's hand closing over hers. "I mean... It's not like we're kissing or anything."

"I-I guess..." Zuko was still red-faced. _What's her definition of 'anything'..._

"Oh, you're so cute!" Jin burst out giggling. "Have you even _spoken _to another girl before?"

"Well..." Zuko shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably. "I mean... Aside from my sisters' friends in childhood... The water-tribe girl I used to run into on the hunt for Aang... Jun the bounty hunter, and a peasant girl I stole an ostrich-horse from... No, not really." Jin burst out laughing, shaking her head. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing." She struggled to keep a straight face. "I think it's... Cute." A smile escaped. "So I was the first girl you kissed?" Zuko gave an uncomfortable nod. "Little old Jin, the first girl that big bad Prince Zuko ever kissed."

"Oh, shut up." Zuko muttered, but he threaded his fingers between the girls', their hands clasped tight. "Running around with girls was never a priority. I've had a _lot_ of other stuff on my mind."

"I know, I know. But hey, it could be worse. While you've been roaming the world in a fancy ship, I've been working my butt off in a sweaty laundry and spending my nights at sleazy taverns." Jin wrinkled her nose.

"... I wish it sounded as luxurious as you insinuated." Zuko stood up, his hand still tangled with hers. "I was also trapped on a raft for weeks without food, had a bunch of pirates try to blow me up, almost froze to death, had my own sister attack me, and spent a good month wandering the countryside broke and hungry."

"Okay... Yeah, that's not good." Jin agreed, standing up. "But you're in Ba Sing Se now. And you have a good job and a nice place to live, I assume." The boy nodded. "Exactly. It's not all bad, is it?"

"No." Zuko agreed with a smile as he stared at the girl who was in love with him. "Things are definitely looking up."

* * *

"Your Highness, I have the..." Katara trailed off, frowning. "Plans..."

The throne room was empty.

"Hello?" Her voice rebounding off the impossibly high walls, Katara took a couple of steps into the chamber. "Anyone?" _Nope... _Momo chirped loudly, the lemur still perched on her shoulder. _He's probably having something to eat... _Katara shrugged and turned, planning on heading for the Kings' private dining hall. However, there was a girl she'd never met before, standing a little way back in the expansive corridor, in the armoured dress and elaborate make-up of the Kiyoshi warriors. "Oh, hi!" Katara beamed. It wasn't Suki, she could tell by the long braid that was pinned behind her head, but at least it was a friend.

"Hey Katara!" The girl ran towards her, a smile plastered on her face. "I heard you were around here... Have you seen Sokka about? Suki's dying to see him."

"No, he's gone to see our father in Chameleon Bay. He'll be back in a week." Katara explained. "But have you seen the Earth King? I have these plans for the invasion that he needs to approve."

"No, I haven't sorry." The Kiyoshi Warrior smiled again, standing six feet away from Katara. Momo gave a soft chirp, lightly gliding the short distance and landing on her shoulder, sniffing the girls' ear curiously. She gave the lemur a somewhat nervous look. "I'll help you find him if you want."

"Thanks!" Katara started to walk, Momo joining her, and the other girl falling in step. "These are really important... I have to find him quickly."

"No problem." They turned down a side corridor, away from the gaze of the Earth Kingdom guards that sporadically flanked the walls. "So how do you like Ba Sing Se?"

"A lot more now Long Feng is gone." Katara admitted. "And the Earth King is talking to us. We're not going to be here for much longer, though. Aang and Sokka aren't in the city, but when they get back, we're probably going to leave, and prepare for the invasion."

"Oh, right. When is the eclipse happening again?" The girl inquired curiously, her large, rounded eyes fixed firmly on Katara.

"Two months from today." Katara replied, clutching the papers tightly in her left hand. "Are you and the other Kiyoshi warriors going to join?"

"Oh, my friends and I will be fighting in the invasion." There was something odd to her tone, so strange and chilling, that Katara stopped in her walk, turning to stare at the girl. She smiled, but it somehow wasn't the same beam that she gave off before. Katara frowned, her right thumb at the cap on her water skin.

Ty Lee struck.

* * *

"How do you like your white jade tea, Jin?"

He was so lovely. Jin smiled as the elderly man bustled in the back room, slaving over four pots of tea at the same time. It was so hard to imagine that this was the great General Iroh, the hardened war hero who besieged her city for six hundred long days, a period she could still remember – if a little vaguely.

"It's great." She set down the gold rimmed mug. "Jasmine is still my favourite, but this is a very close second. I could really get addicted to this."

"Unfortunately, the leaves of the white jade are too rare for any tea shop in the Lower Ring." Iroh set the steaming pot of lychee down upon an ornately carved tray with two matching cups. "Such a shame, as it really is delectable."

"Mmm, I know." Jin drained her cup, looking sorrowfully at the dregs. "Damn, that really is nice..." She straightened up, flashing the elderly man a smile. "Wish we had it readily available in my neighbourhood."

"Then I'll tell you what." Iroh opened a drawer, rifling around the contents. "Take some home with you." Jin blinked as he set the small paper-wrapped package down before her. "We won't miss it here."

"Oh, no, I couldn't." Jin pushed it away. "I'm not going to take your tea leaves, Mr. Mushi."

"It's not taking them." Iroh insisted, taking her wrist and placing the wrapped tea leaves in her palm. "I am giving them to you. Think of it as a thank-you gift."

"A-A thank-you gift?" Jin frowned, but nevertheless slipped the tea leaves inside her dress. "What did I do?"

"My nephew is... Having a tough time right now." Iroh busied himself with the teapots again. "He's just trying to find his way. And I do believe that you are having a positive impact on him."

"Oh, I know." Jin murmured, watching Zuko work through the wide internal window. "Actually, I kind of know everything." Iroh stilled at the stove, turning to look at the girl.

"Everything?" He asked carefully, keeping an eye on the slowly steaming teapot.

"Everything, General Iroh." Jin traced a finger around the rim of the cup, the man frozen. "The bending I figured out on my own, that was why I broke it off with him at first. I was scared. But eventually, I came to my senses and realised that it really wasn't that bad." She laughed quietly. "Then I found out his real identity from a woman who met him while he was on the run."

"Really?" Iroh unscrewed the earthenware jar of green tea, extracting a scoopful of the loose leaves. "Who?"

"Cila." Jin replied. "Did you know her?" She looked over at Iroh, who shook his head. "Really? But it was so sweet, what he did for her and her son..." Jin sighed. "Ask him about it later on."

"I must." Iroh came and sat down at the small table opposite Jin, a thoughtful look on his face. "And you are okay with this?" Iroh looked over at Zuko, who was actually talking with a customer, a smile on his face. No _wonder_ he came out of the back garden looking so extremely relieved.

"Of course I am." Jin leaned back in her chair. "I mean, it was a bit of a shock, but it's not the end of the world. And after hearing the whole story, you can't help but feel for him..." She shook her head. "It's wrong. What happened... It's really, really wrong."

"There are a great many things going on right now that are wrong, Jin." Iroh pointed out, standing back up again to attend to the tea. "Unfortunately, my nephew seems to be at the centre of an awful lot of them. Needless to say, he is not taking it well."

"Who would?" Jin rested her chin on a clenched fist. "I think that to come through everything and still be ready to have a new life like this, you would have to be really strong. I couldn't do it."

"You would be amazed at how strong the human spirit really is, Jin." Iroh noted, serving up another pot of tea. "When I lost my son and my throne in one stroke, I thought that everything was over, I thought that there was no point in going on. That is how Zuko felt when he realised that there was no longer anything he could do to clear his name."

"You lost your son?" Jin murmured. "Oh, I'm so sorry." She watched Iroh busy himself with the green tea. "When... When did it happen?"

"Seven years ago." Iroh said quietly. "In the siege of this very city."

"O-Oh..." Jin looked down at her empty teacup pointedly. "I'm still sorry." She added after a moment of silence. "Even if someone's the enemy, it doesn't mean they deserve to die. Nobody does. That's what's so sad about this war. So many people are dying on both sides..."

"In a perfect Utopia, we would have no war." Zuko, who walked into the back room with a tray loaded with cups, raised an eyebrow. "Hello, my nephew." Jin gave Zuko a soft smile.

"Ba Sing Se is called a Utopia by some." Jin pointed out, sounding a little bitter. "We're supposed to have the perfect balance and flawless social order." She shook her head. "A Utopia can't exist. It can't be real."

"So then, how you want us to live in a world of total peace?" Zuko rolled up his sleeves, listening to his Uncle talk.

"You tell me, Uncle." Zuko looked over at the man. "How do you and Aang intend to do it?"

"What do you mean?" Jin asked, picking up her teacup, and taking it over to the sink. "Why does General Iroh have to do it?"

"Well, if by some amazing, barely-fathomable chance, the Avatar actually manages to defeat my father and sister in time, who do you think would take the throne?"

"Wow, really?" Jin turned to Iroh. "That is so awesome! So, you'll be royalty again, hm, Zuko?" She nudged the teenager playfully, Zuko scratching the back of his head.

"Yeah, I guess." He frowned, watching Iroh. The elderly man had fallen silent, keeping his eyes fixed on the tea.

"Wow... That has to be so exciting." Jin murmured.

"I try not to think about either scenario." Zuko muttered, looking around before leaning over the lukewarm water, gently blowing, too lazy to heat fresh water manually. Jin watched as he did so, fascinated. _Heating water without needing to create a fire. That would be __**so**__ useful... _

"Either?"

"You know, if the Avatar loses, and my father crushes the Earth Kingdom once and for all." Zuko mumbled, unable to look Jin in the eye.

"But... That's not going to happen." Jin's eyes widened. "You can't let it."

"It's not like I have a personal choice in it." Zuko pointed out. "I can't exactly go join the Avatar and his band of merry misfits and help him in his quest."

"No, but..."

"I have some faith in Aang, Jin. Just not much. Look, try not to think about the end of the war." He stepped back from the sink, pulling down his sleeves. "It's depressing."

"I guess..." Jin crossed her arms. "But... Don't you feel like you have to do something?"

"Every time I tried to do something, someone attempted to attack or kill me." Zuko muttered darkly. "Uncle was the one who said there was nothing wrong with a life of peace and prosperity."

"I did." Iroh agreed. "And it is very true." He set the pot of green tea down with two cups. "Quan, the green is ready!" Iroh called, walking the tray across the room, where the serving boy waited.

"Excellent." He took the tray. "Oh, and... a couple of the customers are complaining about a group of scruffy boys standing in the square... Apparently they're watching the shop."

"What?" Jin darted to the window, peering past Quan into the outside square. "Yes, that's just my twin and his friends. I thought it would be." She winced. "I must have misjudged the time... I'm so sorry." Jin turned to Zuko. "I have to go." She apologized. "It was really good to see you again." Iroh tactfully busied himself at the stove.

"It was." Zuko agreed, twisting his fingers in the hem of his sleeves. "And... I'm glad we cleared the air."

"Me too." Jin agreed. "I'm sorry that I was a bit pig-headed... Typical earthbender stubbornness, I know..."

"It's okay, don't apologise." Zuko said firmly. "Look... I was er, wondering, do you want to do something... Together?" Jin bit hard on her tongue to fight back a giggle, but her grin reached almost from ear to ear. "Perhaps... Soon?"

"I would _love_ to do that." Jin managed to regain control of her laughter. "Tonight? I'm not busy. Are you?" Zuko shook his head. "Great. Eight. At the Firelight Fountain. And I swear I'll look more decent than this."

"What... Jin, you are decent. I-I mean, more than just decent." He cleared his throat. "It takes more than a nice dress and hairstyle to look pretty." Jin raised an eyebrow. "Wait! No, that came out wrong. I mean, you don't need that stuff to be pretty... You know, because you already are..." Jin's smile widened to an almost impossible width, and she embraced the teenager tightly.

"... I'll see you tonight." Jin stepped back, taking his hands for a moment. "I look forward to it, Zuko." She leaned forward, her lips brushing his, just for a moment. Zuko's breath died in his throat, painfully aware of the blood rushing to his cheeks. "Bye..." She gave a small wave and a smile, before withdrawing from the room, Zuko watching as she made her way from the tea shop, and outside, his fingertips resting on his lips.

"Well," Iroh turned around, positively beaming. "I-"

"Shut up." Zuko's face flushed even further, the teenager refusing to look his uncle in the eye. "I know what you're going to say. So shut up." He pointedly snatched up the tray of hastily prepared tea, hands slightly trembling, while Iroh convulsed in silent laughter.

* * *

Azula didn't like this.

Ty Lee watched anxiously as the young Princess read over the plans, her golden eyes slowly widening. Her teeth were gritted, she noticed, knuckles white.

"What does it say?" Mai had to ask, leaning against the bedpost with her arms crossed. Perched on the small stool beside the mirror, Azula slowly lowered the scroll, a calculating look on her face.

"The Earth King and his Council of Five plan to extract their entire army from Ba Sing Se." She reported crisply, rolling up the scroll. "And use sheer force to break past the Great Gates of Azulon, smash through the capital, and attack the palace and secure the royal city in the precise moment of the eclipse, when our Royal Guard and elite benders would be rendered completely helpless." Ty Lee gasped, a hand over her mouth, Mai's eyes widening. "It's a very good thing that by this time tomorrow, the city will be under my command." She narrowed her eyes. "Seizing power just became much, much more critical."

"What about the Avatar?" Ty Lee inquired, casting a nervous eye to the closed door.

"What about _her?"_ Mai jerked her head in the direction of Ty Lee's bed, where Katara lay, paralysed and gagged.

"Don't worry girls, I have a solution to both problems." Azula said, tapping the rolled-up scroll against an outstretched palm. "With the water-tribe girl in our custody, it's only a matter of time before the Avatar comes looking for her. And we'll be waiting, won't we?"

"But you can't face him in the palace, Azula." Mai pointed out. "Not before the coup at least. Our cover will be blown for sure."

"I've thought of that." Azula smiled. "Don't worry. I heard from the Earth King that the Avatar and the peasant girls' brother would be gone for a week. The Palace, Ba Sing Se, and the Earth Kingdom will be ours well before then. We'll have the Dai Li on our side. Crushing the Avatar and his pathetic friends will be easier than swatting a spider-fly." Azula stood up, setting the scroll down on the vanity, and slowly walked to the large round window, where the late afternoon sun streamed through. She glared down in contempt at the palace grounds, where she could count half a dozen or so of the filthy Earth Kingdom peasants scuttling about, engaged in their own petty business. "We'll be on a ship home within the end of the month girls, with victory over not just the Avatar, but of the entire Earth Kingdom!" On the bed, Katara heard everything, her stomach churning. _No. They can't be planning this! They can't get away with this! Aang and the others will stop them, they will! Azula's never beaten us yet. And she won't._

"What about Zuko?" Mai asked carefully, watching Azula freeze. "And your Uncle?"

"Ugh, _those_ two." Azula spat with obvious contempt. "Yes, Father did order me to capture those miserable traitors to ensure they received just punishment." She smiled. "He can't wait to give the both of them the slow, agonizing death they both deserve." Mai's stomach clenched, and she tried to keep her face expressionless, but Ty Lee saw her hands tighten into fists in an attempt to stop them shaking.

"Isn't that a bit much?" She ventured nervously, keeping her eye on Azula's prone form. The Princess frowned, but didn't turn to regard her companion. "I mean... Isn't life imprisonment enough, or something?"

"If Father is feeling generous enough, the most they can hope for is that their deaths will be relatively swift." She sneered, knowing of her long-lived affection. "But it is pointless to muse on it, Mai. We don't have them. And besides, I don't care about them anymore. They are probably wandering the wilderness, scratching out a pathetic existence. They're not a threat to us any longer – not that they ever really were." She turned away from the window. "Let's take this one step at a time. Firstly, we need to conceal the girl. Ty Lee, how long does the paralysis last?"

"I was kind of gentle." The girl admitted. "It'll wear off in about six hours."

"All right." Azula frowned. "Leave her here for now. We can't risk anyone seeing us with her like this; it will arise to compromising questions. I predict that the Dai Li will intrude on us in the middle of the night, and drag me down to be interrogated by Long Feng. Due to his imprisonment, he'll be anxious to regain his control over the Dai Li and use me to do it. Once the Dai Li are working for me, we can lock her up where she won't be a problem." Katara blinked rapidly, her eyes stinging. _They can't do this... They just can't!_ "Until tonight, we must act as though nothing is amiss. Ty Lee, how many people saw you with the peasant?"

"Just the six palace guards that are outside the main throne room." Ty Lee reported. "And that was before she knew it was me."

"All right." Azula nodded. "They rotate the guards every six hours, so in one hour, the three of us can return to the throne room and it will not look suspicious." The other two nodded. "We must remain in here until then."

"Fine by me." Mai collapsed on her bed with a sigh. "I need a rest. Conquering the Earth Kingdom can take a lot out of you."

"The real work hasn't begun yet, Mai." Azula's shoes clicked on the stone floor as she walked across the room, pausing beside Ty Lee's bed. "We still need to put our plan into action."

"We can handle it." Ty Lee said confidently, falling back onto her hands, balancing carefully.

"I know you can, Ty Lee." Azula gave a small, rare smile. "That is why I trust the pair of you." She cast a disdainful glare towards Katara, who closed her eyes, forcing down the very real need to vomit. "We'll achieve in the space of days what my brother and Uncle failed to accomplish after years of struggle." Azula narrowed her eyes.

_No..._ Katara tried to calm herself down, tried to relax, but it was futile. Despite the paralysis, her heart was racing, a sour taste rising in her mouth. _They can't do this... Aang has to stop them, somehow!_

_How... _

_They'll be walking into a trap when they come to rescue me! This is all a trap... And they're going to gain control of the Dai Li... How can Aang win? Maybe if he manages to control the Avatar state with this Guru, he might have a chance... _Her eyes stung. _Aang, please. Please, don't come for me. I'm begging you... Don't walk into Azula's trap. What am I doing? _Katara would have shaken her head, if she could move it. _It's not like he can hear me... He's the Avatar, but even he can't sense things like this._

"Don't worry, peasant." Azula murmured, examining a fingernail. "There's a wing of cells underneath the Fire Nation palace specially built for people like you. Of course, they've been empty for years." Katara's mouth was dry, her heart thudding. _No... She doesn't mean.._. "At least you'll live..." She smirked.

"For now."

* * *

ZOMG CLIFFY!

Kind of.

Now, I've actually been thinking, and I would actually like to do a rewrite of the beginning of the story. Particularly the first two chapters. After all, it's the first thing new readers read, and tif it's poor quality, then they tend to be put off. When I started four months ago (Just four months? Jaysus) I was new to the pairing, the genre (Yes, I'm an ex-yaoi... Shoot me.) and the fandom as a whole. And it sucks, I know. This isn't just because someone (I CAN'T REMEMBER YOUR NAME! I AM SO SO SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME!) did point my suckyness out - I've been thinking it for a while now.

But, if I do, you peeps have to swear to review. Because, I mean, that would just be unfair if you didn't.

If you want me to or not, just tell me in your review. I have my last exam on the 22nd so I would have an update by the end of the month, I swears. And I would try to get the rewrite out really really fast, so it wont slow the progression of the storyline toooo much.

As an interesting side note, this brings my total word count (Three pennames, spanning five-and-a-half years... Yes, I am aware how geeky that is) on this site past the 1 million word count!

I need a life. I know. :3

R&R!


	13. Chapter 13

Hey! What's up peeps!

Yes. I am sooo gangsta like that LOL

Yeah, I am aware that this is a little late... But cut me some slack. This baby is ten thousand words long.

And stuff does happen. I swear.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

* * *

She was giddy with excitement.

Her face flushed with embarrassment, hands trembling slightly, Jin raised the dress closer to her eye-level, trying to keep the hem she was sewing in a straight line. It was for her Uncle Shirong's eldest daughter, who had tried on her formal robes and recently found it was an inch or so too short. They could probably afford to buy another one for her with a little penny-pinching, but instead the wood-turner handed it to his brother-in-law's wife, claiming she was skilled enough with the needle to perform a flawless job. It was a lie, and everyone knew it. Shan, although very skilled, was far from extraordinary with a needle, and certainly no match for the seamstresses that the man could have hired. It was a charity case, the wealthier man finding a way to give money to his poorer relatives, especially as Hai was beginning work at his wood-turning business in a couple of days. But as Renshu was too proud to accept money straight, and Shirong didn't have the spare money to give his new apprentice a steady wage, giving Shan a few items of clothing to re-hem and darn was the next best option. However, as Chang had came home half an hour ago, an hour after Jin – who received severe rebuking for her inability to come home on time – absolutely plastered in mud, Shan had no choice but to force him into a bath, assigning the work to Jin, who, to be frank, needed to work on her needlework anyway.

Her hands and eyes were on her work, yes, but behind then, Jin's mind was a million miles away. All she could think about was her short excursion with Zuko. The way he smiled, spoke, held her hand, it was all so unreal to her. She'd never encountered such raw honesty in any boy before, and it was a little unnerving. But, more than that, it was exciting, new, and different. _Oh, I can't wait to see him tonight... I hope that it goes well. I hope that he hasn't had some sort of strange change of heart... That would be so like him... poor Zuko. _Jin was so excited about her date tonight, that she was able to look past a certain... Unpleasant encounter. Cautiously, the girl cast a sidelong glance to her twin, who knelt at the table with a small, sharp knife, and a pile of vegetables that needed peeling and dicing. Aware that, whatever Jin had gotten up to, Jiro was in on it, Shan had admonished them both, extremely severely, setting the both of them tedious chores, with the unpleasant promise of more when they had finished. _I just hope she doesn't tell Dad... This isn't what I need right now. How am I going to get out and see Zuko? Just tell my parents I'm going to bed at eight o'clock and sneak out? How? It's so early, they would never buy it! I don't think they'll ever trust me again if they knew that I snuck into the upper ring to see a boy... And then got caught by the Dai Li..._ It was only a fleeting glimpse, a shout, and a panicked sprint down a few back alleys. They weren't pursued any further, so the four assumed that they were safe. Nevertheless, they kept their noses in the narrowest, most-secluded side-streets they could find.

"Jin, be careful." Another howl came from the metal washtub, but Shan ignored the cry of protest, the coarse bristle brush grating hard against dirt-caked skin. "I don't want to have to unpick everything you've done. Sew that straight and keep your stitches near invisible."

"Sure, Ma." Jin didn't argue. When her mother was in this mood, it was just better to drop things and act as the meek, subdued girl she was supposed to. Shan nodded, and turned her attention to the small figure in the tub, pulling the boys' arm straight outwards, before beginning to vigorously scrub it.

"Ow! Mama, that _hurts!"_ Chang protested, squirming desperately under his mothers hold.

"You should have thought twice about rolling about in the mud then." She said crisply. "Have you learned your lesson this time?"

"Yes! Yes!" The boy howled. "I won't do it again! Please!"

"I haven't finished cleaning you off." Jin hid a smile at the torture. _Oh, the wonders of earthbending..._ It was a definite bonus, having the ability to shake away the dirt as a dog shakes off water. At least, it avoided punishment such as a painful cleaning when she was Chang's age. "When you're finished, you can dry off and-" The woman was cut off by a swift knock on the door. "What?" She straightened up, still clinging to the scrubbing brush and bar of soap. "Who could that be?"

_No._ Jin shot her brother a sidelong glance. _It couldn't be..._ He shook his head slightly. '_You're just being paranoid.'_ He mouthed as Shan set down the brush and soap, moving towards the door. '_Calm down.'_ Jin swallowed, and nodded, returning her gaze to her needlework, but keeping an eye on the door, hands trembling.

"Hello?" Shan opened the door, the three children noticing in an instant the way her profile froze. "H-How may I help you?" She choked out, reeling backwards.

As the two Dai Li walked into the modest living room, Jins' heart dropped like a stone. However, she forced her face to resemble an expression of modest curiosity, clenching her hands tightly to mask the trembling. Near her, Jiro cast his eyes instantly back to the vegetables, mouth as dry as sand.

"Sorry to disturb you at this time, Madam." He had a slick voice, oily and liquid. "But we've had a report about a group of teenagers breaking into the Upper Ring of our fine city."

"Really?" Shan raised an eyebrow, but her jaw was set tight. _**Those two**_. "Well, I can assure you that my children have been home all afternoon, doing chores."

"All the same, Madam," In the tub, Chang was shaking. Slowly, Jin set aside the darning, and taking the towel which was warming by the stove, knelt beside the tub with her arms held out, draped in towelling. The little boy buried himself into the comfort of his sisters' arms, trembling violently. Locking her eyes with the pair of Dai Li, Jin wrapped his skinny little frame up tight, gently rubbing soothing circles in his back. "We would like to take the boy and girl for questioning." The knife slipped from Jiro's fingers, clattering loudly to the floor, and Jin tightened her grasp on Chang, trying to control her breathing. _Nononono they can't they can't be serious they won't they don't know it's us they can there's no way, oh crap oh crap oh crap..._

"Listen to me, I told you my kids have been here all afternoon!" Panic flashed in Shan's eyes. "Jin got home just before one o'clock, Jiro half an hour after. They've been helping out with chores! There's no way the kids you saw were my children!"

"Please, Madam." There was a tight edge to the oily-voiced mans' tone. "Let's not make this unpleasant for anyone-"

"You have no reason to take my children." Her voice shook. All five in the room knew what 'questioning' really meant. She'd be lucky if she ever saw them again, and if she did, their brains most likely would be as addled and sluggish as soup. "Where is your proof that it was them?"

"Please, Madam-"

"Where is your proof that it was them!" She was borderline hysterical, but didn't care. Shrouded in the very real terror that her eldest remaining children would be taken away, Shan took a deep breath, and tried to hold her composure. "Please, you have it all wrong. Do you think they are the only sixteen-year-olds in the entire city?" She reasoned. "I swear, by the spirits, that my children were here all afternoon. It couldn't possibly be them."

"I would like to believe you, Madam, but with their reputation-"

"What reputation?" Jin's eyes stung, and she glanced over at Jiro, who refused to look at her. "They've made a few mistakes. But their records' have been clean for months! They're learned their lessons, they're good children. Well-behaved. I promise. They're not the kids that you're looking for."

"I'm sure you believe very heartily in that, Madam, but-"

"I would be willing to testify in the highest court that my children are innocent." Shan said in a low, even voice. "They're not the teenagers you are looking for." She stepped aside. "Do they look like the boy and girl you saw in the Upper Ring?" She gestured at the pair, who had changed their clothes, Jin braiding her hair. "Any genuine resemblance?"

"I don't know." Jin swallowed. "I wasn't there to see them-"

"Then how do you know?" She protested. "I bet you were told to find every girl and boy around their age with a record and chase them down. Weren't you?"

"Yes, we were." His teeth were gritted. "Madam, I would appreciate it greatly if you spoke with a little more restraint and respect." Shan's eyes widened even further, but she took a long, deep breath, trying to calm herself.

"You're right." She said eventually. "I'm sorry for acting so out of line. But please, listen to me. My children have been here all afternoon. My daughter Jin washed the dirty laundry and hung it out to dry, before working on some clothes that needed mending. My son Jiro repaired the roof of the coal shed, collected water from the nearby pump, and began preparing dinner." She rattled off a list of chores, mostly imaginary. "These aren't the children you're looking for. Please, they're good kids. They work hard." Shan put on her most pleading expression. "If they get something like this on their file, it's going to be much harder for them to work their way up in their workplaces." She swallowed. "I know, after the trouble with my eldest son, you've kept a close eye on our family. But I promise you, my two children are not going to tread such a path. They're excellent, well-behaved citizens."

"Xiao-Sheng," One Dai Li muttered into his partners' ear. "I don't think it's them. Look at the kids. They're just scared. Most are defiant and proud when they're taken. And the mother is serious. Let's just leave. We're wasting time."

"... All right." Xiao-Sheng cleared his throat. "Sorry to disturb you Madam." He gave a short bow. "But, just a heads-up, please make sure that you keep your children under tight wraps. I know they might be good now, but a past record doesn't go away." He eyed the twins carefully, trying to catch any sort of slip, something that could expose their guilt. However, they were as impassive and impervious as stone. His partner was right. It wasn't those kids. "Enjoy your evening." He turned to leave, Shan giving the pair a nod and a low bow herself. As the second Dai Li left, Shan shut the door quietly behind them. Chang was still in Jin's arms, eyes leaking tears. Jiro slowly picked up the knife, hands shaking so hard he didn't trust himself to use it. Shan's hand remained on the door handle for a long time, eyes fixed on the wood panelling. The seconds stretched into minutes, and no one dared to move a muscle, the air in the room tenser than it had been in months.

"I cannot believe the pair of you." Shan slowly turned around, and with a painful stab, the twins saw she had tears in her eyes. "How. How _could_ you _do_ something like this?"

"... We're sorry." Jiro finally whispered, Jin clinging tightly to her youngest brother, nose buried in his hair. "We didn't mean to-"

"Didn't mean to _what?"_ Shan snapped. "Didn't mean to _what, _Jiro? Get caught? Get found out? You thought that you could go wandering about the _Upper Ring_ and get _away_ with it?"

"Ma, please." Jiro begged. "We're both really really sorry-"

"How _could_ you put our family in jeopardy?" She was crying in her anger, tears rolling freely down slightly lined cheeks. "After what happened to Meng! How could you! How..._" _Jiro slowly put the knife down, and walked over to his mother, trying to hug her. "No!" She snapped, pushing him away. "Don't, Jiro. Don't... I-I can't even look at you! Either of you!"

"Ma, I'm _sorry._" He pleaded. "W-We were so stupid, we know. It was a terrible, horrible mistake. A-And we promise, it'll never happen again... We didn't think, we didn't realise that there would be these sorts of implications." Jiro wiped at his eyes. "Please Ma... don't hate us. We're so sorry." Bowed down with guilt, he couldn't look at his mother, feeling sick. He'd never moved her to open tears before. "Ma-"

"Finish making dinner." She muttered abruptly, pushing past the boy. "Jin can help." Jiro closed his eyes as Shan walked out of the room, into the little hallway, the sound of her bedroom door shutting filling the little apartment.

"... _Dammit."_ He sat down heavily, head in his hands. "We messed up Jin."

"No kidding." It was evident from her voice that she was crying. "I'm so sorry, Jiro. This is my fault."

"Maybe, but I'm to blame, too." He murmured. "I shouldn't have gone, either."

"I shouldn't have dragged you into it." Jin gently stroked Changs' damp hair. "But... I didn't know the easy way to get in, and I was scared to get caught."

"Look, what's happened, has happened." He stood up. "We should go talk to her. Say we're sorry and all that."

"Jiro, she doesn't want to see us." The girl argued. "It's pointless to talk to her now."

"Come on." He muttered. "If she's still a mess when Dad gets' home, we're screwed. We have to at least try and cover ourselves."

"Is that all you care about?" She frowned. "Making sure we don't get in trouble with Dad?"

"No, of course not." He sighed. "Look, I feel dead guilty for this, don't worry. Get up."

"Fine." She released her hold on Chang, who wiped his eyes. "Look, sweetie." She smiled at the peaky little face. "Go and get dressed. Jiro and I are gonna talk to Mama, all right?" He nodded slowly. "And... Let's keep this meeting with the Dai Li our little secret. Dad doesn't need to know, does he?" After a pause and a frown, the little boy nodded again. "Good boy." She gave him a brief hug, and let him go. He slid down from her lap, and scampered across the room.

"Poor kid." Jiro commented. "He didn't need to see any of that." Jin just shot her brother a look, before following him down the narrow, dark hallway, pausing outside the door to their parents' bedroom. "Ma?" He knocked gently on the wood. "Ma, you all right?" There was no response. "Ma, we're going to come in, okay?" He said cautiously. Still, there was no reply. Looking worried, Jiro slowly pushed open the door.

She was sitting on the edge of the bed, a scroll of paper in her hands. Both of the children knew what it was in an instant. Her sister Jiaying married an artist, and one year, he'd painted a picture of them all, the week Chang was born, to be exact. It had hung on the wall for a time, the happy, smiling family of seven. Wordlessly, the twins sat beside her, flanking the women, three pairs of eyes drawn to the picture.

"You've lost a lot of weight since then." Jin remarked with a comforting smile, a hand on her mothers' shoulder. Shan didn't respond, her eyes fixed on the figure of the sixteen-year-old boy, standing beside his father.

"Yeah, look at us." He looked at his sister of Shan's bowed head. "We were so tiny then."

"Well, we were twelve." Jin pointed out. "Look at how dorky I am. All skinny and gawky. I was so weird-looking."

"Yeah. So was I." He raised an eyebrow. "You know, Hai now looks just like you back then."

"Hey, that's not nice." She frowned. "I'm not boyish-looking."

"No, I'm saying he's really girly." The twins let out a chuckle, trying so hard to lighten the mood. Shan was silent, staring the image of at her eldest son. "Ma, maybe you shouldn't look at this." He tried to take it gently from her, but her hands held fast. "It's just making you depressed." It was why her father had taken it down, three-and-a-half years ago. Shan had developed a habit of staring at it for ages, then breaking down crying.

"I still think about him." Her voice was strained, barely above a whisper. "Every day. Whether he's still alive or..."

"Okay, that's enough." Jiro said firmly, wrenching the paper from her hands, rolling it up. Jin frowned at his brother, but he ignored it. "I know it's hard, Ma. It's hard on everyone. But we can't sit here and wonder why and what if. He's gone, Ma. Meng is gone. He's not going to come back." He hated himself for saying it, but it was the truth. He knew it, despite the protest, the argument of hope, in the pit of his stomach. Jin glared daggers at him, her arm around her mothers' trembling shoulders. "But you still have us, Jin and I. And Chang. And Hai."

"I almost lost you today." Her lower lip was trembling. "If they'd taken you away..."

"But they didn't." Jiro argued. "Ma, please. Jin and I, we are so, so, sorry. It was a really stupid thing for us to do, and we understand that. Look, can you please just shout at us and punish us or something?"

"... If I lost you two..." She trailed off with a shuddering sigh.

"You won't." Jin said comfortingly. "We're not going anywhere." Jiro slowly replaced the picture in the bedside cabinet, and stood up, hands resting on the windowsill.

"I know you two are growing up, and in a few years, you'll be out on your own, but..." She gave a small smile. "You're still my babies. And you've caused me heaps more trouble and grief then the younger kids, for sure." She rested her hand on Jin's knee. "But I still love the pair of you so much."

"And we love you too." Jiro murmured, staring out into the back yard, which was little more than a dirt patch, sparsely littered with grass. "C'mon. Dinner still has to be cooked and Dad'll be home soon. He'll want to know why you're upset."

"It'll be okay, kids." Shan stood up, wiping at her eyes. "I'll handle things with your father. Just get back to your chores." With a nod, Jin stood up, and Jiro turned away from the window. "I'll be there in a moment."

"Okay." Jiro closed the door behind himself, walking beside his sister in the narrow passage. "She's slipping." He muttered in a low voice. "I know she's trying hard to hide it, but losing Meng is still killing her."

"I know." She murmured. "But what are you gonna go, go under Lake Laogai and try to find him? He's dead to the family. It's the only way to move on."

"But she's not moving on." He argued. "Neither is Dad. You know how he gets sometimes. And I miss him like crazy, too."

"You think I don't?" She shot back. "Do you have any idea how horrible I feel about it? But we can't dwell on it. Look, what happened when Nana Ling and Aunt Lanfen died? When Ting was stillborn? We mourned, and then we moved on. That's what we have to do." Chang was sitting in the lounge, fully dressed on the floor beside the stove. Jin took the comb from the shelf, and sat at the chair the boy rested before.

"Look, it's easy to _say_ that Jin, but we can't." Jiro argued. "It's not like Ting. She was just a baby. We didn't get to know her. And Lanfen and Ling were family, but not _our_ family. They didn't live here under our roof with us. It's different."

"It is different." Jin agreed, starting at the ends of Changs' hair, attacking the tangled locks with a comb. "But it's not because of that. It's because he didn't get to go properly. You heard Ma. She still deludes herself and thinks he's alive. We can't mention him or talk about him, because it's too upsetting."

"You think it would be different if there was an accident, or he got sick?" Jiro knelt down before the vegetables.

"If we had a funeral? Closure? A grave to go and visit? If we could talk about him comfortably? Of course it would. But as it is, we don't have any of that." She started to braid the little boys' hair, starting at the nape of his neck.

"Then let's go and have a funeral for him." He rolled his eyes. "Bury an empty box at the family plot. Come on Jin, what are we supposed to do?"

"Why are you asking me?" She pulled a little at Changs hair, the boy wincing. "Sorry." She gently kissed the top of his head. "Jiro, I don't know." She looked up at her brother. "I honestly don't."

"We can't live like this." He muttered, head in his hands. "It's impossible. You think it would get better with time, but it's not. It's worse."

"Why do you care, you'll be gone by the end of the summer." Jin muttered. "Abandoning us to go and get yourself killed in the military."

"I'm not abandoning you." He argued. "I'm just doing what I have to."

"You're escaping Ba Sing Se." Jin clarified.

"And you're not planning to?" He shot back. "Look, shut up. Ma's gonna be in here soon." She nodded quietly, winding a loose piece of ribbon about the end of Chang's hair. The little boy was staring, quite intently at Jiro, confusion evident. He looked away, refusing to stare his little brother in the eye.

"Heya!" The front door opening made all three jump. On the threshold, Hai frowned, cocking his head to one side. "Sorry, I was with Eri... Hello? What's up?" He looked around at the trio, his frown deepening. "What... Happened? Where's Ma?"

"Ask Jiro." Jin stood up abruptly, the comb clattering to the floor. Barefoot, she fled across the room, pushing her way past Hai. Her thumping footsteps could be heard for a long time as she ran down the rickety staircase, almost losing her footing twice. As she burst into the street, breathing harsh and ragged, she realised with a start the state that she must have been in. With a gulp, Jin wiped at her eyes, and leaned against the side of the narrow, tall house, home to four large families.

_I can't put up with this._ Normally, it was all right. The family was okay, functioning harmoniously. Life went on uninterrupted and happy for weeks, months, even. But then, the same old problem flared up, as five troubled children and adults struggled to comprehend the loss of their golden boy and cope with the appalling injustice of his arrest. Reckless behaviour, a confrontation, shouting, a breakdown, it was what the family knew all too well. If Jin was lucky enough, when she returned, her mother would put it down to some sort of reaction to Meng and wouldn't punish her too severely. Nobody in the family, immediate or extended, had any sort of psychiatric experience, but even they had a basic understanding of stress disorders and repressed grief.

_It's not intentional._ She walked slowly, as if she was in a dream. _I hardly sit there and consciously put everything down to Meng. I can't blame him for my mistakes. They're my own and I have to take fault for them. No matter how sick it makes me feel, just to think of them. _Damn, her hair was falling all about the place again. She pushed it back, staring idly about her, at the ostrich-horses leading carts laden with rather wilted-looking vegetables, the best being reserved for the Middle and Upper Rings, laughing and scampering children, and the young couples walking hand-in-hand. _They all seem so happy..._ She was jealous, and not ashamed to admit it. Most of the citizens, especially the refugees, kept their head down and behaved. It wasn't hard, really. The laws were somewhat flexible. After all, a rat is free to wander the maze – so long as it stays in the maze. Unfortunately for her, it only took a few unpleasant incidents for her entire family to become blacklisted. At least she wasn't known by sight, like a couple of her older friends, all of which had eventually gone missing.

_Perhaps I should talk to Zuko._ She dared to hope. _He might feel similar... Like Ba Sing Se is horrible and he can't stay here... We could..._

_What am I thinking?_ She blushed in the street. _I wouldn't... Run away with him, would I? I couldn't leave my family. Not yet. And besides, he has a job in the frigging Upper Ring! Why would he leave that for anything? He would be crazy to. And he'd never leave his Uncle, too. Especially not for me. Why would I even think that..._

_All the same..._ She turned on her heel, staring back at the front of her home, so similar to every other in the street. But the top floor told a much sadder story, which ran deeper than the familiar anecdotes of poverty. With a sigh, she turned away. _I can't leave them. Not now. Zuko was right. They are all I have. And I love them to pieces. I always will... But until we clear this mess once and for all, nothing's ever going to be completely normal... And when is that going to happen?_

_I'll go and see Lanying._ Her older cousin was one of the few people she could confide in, and had grown up closely alongside Meng, being the same age. Aside from the fact that she needed to talk to someone, - and Zuko probably wouldn't have cared to listen – she was also starved. It was approaching evening, after all, and she hadn't eaten since breakfast. Although funds were a little stretched for the fledgling family, having recently given birth to their first child, she would be able to spare a little food for a hungry family member, surely.

_She'll lend an ear at least._ The girl turned into a narrow side-alley, turning back quickly first, to make sure none of her brothers had followed her.

* * *

_Try to let her go._

Aang kept his eyes closed, fingers entwined. Thinking of Katara was easy. He remembered her on their last waterbending session, a weave of dusky skin and snowy cloth and twisting snakes of water. She was strong, beautiful, and yet so incredibly gentle and motherly. _How can I ever let her go?_

_All right._ He took another breath, trying to clear his head. _I can do this. Pure cosmic energy. _Aang imagined her floating away, illuminated, becoming one with the cosmos. _All right..._

A bridge of light. Aang began to tread the path, as cool and as fragile as glass. _I can do this. I can do this. _It was the most incredible experience in the world. He was one, not just with his physical being, his mind, but also his spirit, embedded in every leaf, every rock, every insect, on the planet. He was in tune with the entire _world._ At that moment, he _was_ the world.

_They can't get away with this!_ Aang's footsteps stilled on the glass path as an achingly familiar voice flashed through his mind. _They can't do this... They can't!_ With a low cry, the nomad sank to his knees, limbs as heavy and useless as lead. He couldn't think, couldn't move, couldn't see. _Aang please. Please don't come for me._ He gasped in realisation. Aang had somehow tuned in to her, tapped into her mind and spirit. In that position of intense meditation, when he was reconnecting with his Avatar State, and the world, he could have tuned in to anybody, from Firelord Ozai to a spider-fly. And with a cold wave of shock, he realised why his subconscious had chosen Katara. _I'm begging you... Don't walk into Azula's trap._

When he saw the eyes, Aang jumped. They were printed clearly in his minds' eye. Two brilliantly golden eyes, reminiscent of fire, ringed in red paint. The white face was leering over him, a smirk on dark-painted lips. The makeup of the Kyoshi warriors... But he knew those _eyes-_

"NO!" Aang jerked himself out, as one does from a frightening nightmare. Opposite him, Guru Pathik looked up, eyes wide. "No!" He repeated again, lurching forward.

"Aang, what are you-"

"I have to go." Aang was shaking, his skinny frame covered in a thin sheen of sweat. "I-I... Katara... Something's wrong, I _felt_ it! I saw _her."_

"Aang, you cannot leave!" The ancient Guru protested in alarm as Aang stood up. "If you do, you cannot access the Avatar State at all!"

"I don't _want_ it without Katara!" He shot back, turning away from the man. "I have to help her!"

"Aang please!"

"You don't understand!" He turned back to Guru Pathik, eyes oddly bright. "I _love_ her! I'm not sitting by while she's in danger! She- She is my world!" With that, Aang fled, leaping down from the tall plateau. Guru Pathik slowly stood up, watching the figure leap gracefully down the mountainside, toes barely touching the earth.

"Foolish boy." He breathed, with disappointment, not contempt. "You have doomed us all in the name of love..." The ancient man gently shook his head with sadness.

* * *

"Goodnight Lee, Mr. Mushi."

"Goodnight, Quan." Iroh waved the last of his new employees' goodnight, a wide smile on his face. Zuko gave a half-hearted wave, his eyes fixated on the broomstick, and mind on a pretty young girl with unruly hair.

"So, my nephew!" Iroh gave the teenager a quick jab in the side. "What are your plans for tonight, hm?"

"My plans?" He blinked. "Oh! Uh, I don't exactly know?" Iroh raised an eyebrow. "What, I don't. I haven't exactly thought about it." That was a lie.

"You know, you're very lucky to have found someone as accepting as she is." Iroh arched his back in a stretch, walking to the serving counter. "Does she really know everything?"

"Pretty much, yes." He shrugged, leaning a little on his stationary broom. "I kind of can't believe it either. And apparently, I'm one of the nicest people she's ever met. That part I don't understand."

"I do." Iroh pulled open the drawer where the takings were stored. "You, my nephew, have a very strong sense of honour and respect." Zuko sighed. "Not just for yourself, but others around you. It's hard for girls like Jin to find people who have such respect and honour them."

"Why?" He frowned. "She's a nice girl. Why would anyone want to treat her badly?" Iroh only chuckled, and shook his head, carefully stacking the pile of coins, trying to gauge how much profit they had gleaned on their opening day.

"That's a very good question." The retired General murmured. In reality, he knew the definition of 'badly' in that sense, and he knew why, it was a little obvious. His well-trained eye had quickly spotted the glint in her eye and curl in her smile, traditional flirtatious mannerisms, but thought he would spare his clean-minded nephew. "Would you like your weeks' wages in advance?"

"Hm?" Zuko set down the broom, dispelling any pretence of actual work. "Why?"

"I don't know, maybe so you can buy Jin a nice gift, take her out?" Iroh said patiently, suppressing a desire to smack his borderline idiotic nephew. "I've heard of an excellent place to eat in the Middle Ring, on the same street as the University. It shares a small courtyard with the only school of Ghost Koi in the city. Take her there, it's apparently lovely." It was just so incredibly sad that he had gone this long without the barest female contact. Even in his younger days, before his engagement, Iroh had been prone to harmless flirting, and he'd caught his own son in a somewhat compromising situation once or twice. It was why he encouraged Zuko's budding relationship to this extent; it was something that bore a resemblance to a normal, healthy life, something Zuko deserved, but had been robbed of for a heartbreakingly long time.

"Oh!" Eyes widened in recognition. "Yeah, of course, that would be good." Iroh nodded, and pushed four gold pieces and three silver ones across the table. Zuko froze. "What... Really? Just for this week?"

"I'm the manager Zuko, I decide the wages." Iroh assured his nephew. "And... To be honest..." He gestured at the growing columns of money as Zuko walked towards the counter. "I'm pretty sure that it can be spared."

"Wow, thank you Uncle!" He slipped the money inside his clothing, before giving his Uncle a quick embrace. "That's really generous of you."

"Any time, my nephew." He murmured softly before pulling apart, smiling. "You should probably think of heading off soon, no?"

"Oh, yes." Zuko nodded. "Er... Then, I guess I'll see you later on tonight?" He started to walk out of the shop. "I won't be out too late."

"Uh, Zuko?" Iroh called out, making the teenager pause. "Are you forgetting something?"

"Am I?" Zuko turned around, confused. "What am I forgetting?" An eyebrow raised, Iroh pointed to the apron that the teenager was still wearing. "Oh... Oh!" He pulled it off quickly, shooting his Uncle a glare. "Don't laugh." He threatened the elderly man, setting it down on a table. "I mean it."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Iroh bit back a chuckle, watching the retreating figure of his nephew with a happy smile. "Enjoy yourself tonight, Prince Zuko." He murmured, before turning back to the laden countertop.

* * *

_I hope she likes this._

Zuko swallowed nervously as he fingered the small wooden box in his pocket, keeping a suspicious eye out. The sun had set half an hour ago, the atmosphere darkening. It was usually all right if you kept to yourself, but Zuko was wearing his finer robes from the Upper Ring, giving the largely inaccurate impression that he was wealthy, and his purse ripe for the taking. On the safe side, he wore his Dao swords, slung at the waist, one hand resting carefully on the hilt. He stood a little far back from the action, although not invisible, he would be hard to pick out. Jin was due to be here very soon, he realised, and she might not be able to see him. With a sigh, Zuko stepped forward, into the light a little more. Arms crossed, he stared idly up at the string of lanterns which ringed a part of the little courtyard. They'd been fixed, and replaced, which surprised the teenager a little. He didn't really think people cared that much, but there you go...

"Lee!" His stomach softened when he saw her. Jin stood at the wide entrance to the courtyard, a wide smile on her face. As she walked towards him, arms held out, he noticed her face in sharper detail. "It's so good to see you!" She embraced him, Zuko holding her for a few moments, before pulling away, his frown deepening. His suspicions were right.

"Why have you been crying?" His hand rested on the side of her face, analyzing her red-rimmed eyes. Jin swallowed hard, and looked away, biting hard on her lower lip. "Jin?" He pressed, lifting her jaw so she had to look at him. "What happened?"

"It's... Nothing, really." She murmured. "Just stupid family stuff. You don't want to hear about it, it's just something that we always-"

"Tell me." He cut over her, the abrupt words causing Jin to blink.

"What?"

"Tell me." He repeated, his hand drifting from her face. He was unsure of what to do with it now, how to lift his hand away without giving the impression he was recoiling from her. Zuko settled for placing his hands lightly on her shoulder. "Look, I've blabbed to you all about my messed up family, tell me about yours."

"They're not messed up!" Jin argued, lips stretching into a weak smile. "Well, not usually, anyways." She let out a soft sigh, and looked down at her feet, clothed in shoes she borrowed from her cousin. "It's just... It only takes one bad thing to happen and screw everything up forever."

"Don't have to tell me." Zuko muttered. Jin looked at him. "No. You were talking." He took her hand, and started to walk. "We have a little while yet... Tell me while we're walking."

"What?" She blinked. "Why? Where are we going?"

"Oh! Well, er, I hope you don't mind, but I was hoping we could maybe go and get something to eat, if that was okay by you."

"Yes! Of course!" She beamed, heart instantly lifted. "Where did you want to go? Back the first place we went to? Or I know a really great place a little south-west of here that do the best baozai. Or did you have something else in mind?"

"Yeah, I did." Zuko nodded. "I got this place in the Middle Ring recommended to me by Uncle... It's apparently really good."

"Oh, okay." Jin nodded slowly. "But... How am I going to get in? I really don't think I should be sneaking around again today."

"You won't have to." Zuko assured her. "I'll get you in, no problem. Don't worry about it." She frowned a little. "Honestly, it will be fine." He said firmly. "Trust me."

"... Okay." She relaxed into a genuine, if small, smile. "I'll trust you on it, then." She gently took his hand, curling her fingers around his, pressing their palms together.

"Good." Zuko smirked. "Now, tell me what it is that's troubling you, Jin. I don't mind listening." At the words, she clouded over, and looked away. "Jin." His tone tightened. "Look, whatever it is, I'm sure my story is much worse. What's wrong?"

"Well, to be honest, I didn't really think that you would care that much." Jin confessed as they walked down the street. "I mean... Look at you. Everything you've been through. I can't even begin to comprehend how that must have felt for you. And to say that I have problems, and that my family's past is complicated, it's just selfish."

"Jin, it's not selfish." Zuko murmured. "Everybody's different. I won't tell you how many hundreds of hours I spent angsting and tormenting myself over everything that's happened. To be honest, a lot of my grief is self-inflicted. I was the one that was weak in adversity."

"Zuko, you're not."

"I was." He contradicted her. "I really, really was. It took my Uncle hours and hours of patiently lecturing until I realised that all I was doing was hurting myself. But I-" He broke off the sentence, shaking his head. "This isn't about me! This is about you." He tightened his grip on her hand. "You told me once before that your family remained whole throughout the war. If it wasn't that, then what was it?" He watched her carefully, the girl raising her eyes to the sky for a moment, examining the emerging stars, before lowering her gaze.

"It didn't need to be the war." She began quietly, scooting a little closer to him so she could keep her voice lowered. "Not when there are enemies of your personal safety and privacy right on your doorstep, ready to pounce."

"The Dai Li." Zuko breathed, watching her nod.

"The Dai Li." She agreed. "I was twelve. It... It was my fault, really. Mine and my brothers'. See, we were right little scamps at the time, always fighting and getting into trouble. Usually, it was just with stallholders and family, but one time, Jiro and I got into a lot more trouble." Jin swallowed hard. "We were bending rocks, stupid kid stuff, hiding on the roof, hitting people, knocking things over. You know, just being little idiots. Thing was, there were a couple of Dai Li patrolling. Jiro hit one of them, it was an accident. Well, he claims it is, but I don't know. Either way, they got really angry and tried to chase us down."

"For throwing a rock?" Zuko raised an eyebrow. "A couple of kids?"

"They're evil." She mumbled. "You know that. They should have let it go. I wish they had. But they didn't. They managed to catch us, just as we reached the place where our older brother Meng hung out with his friends." Jin bit her lip. "I think that they were just going to yell at us and send us on our way, but Jiro freaked out, and started to try and knock them down with rocks."

"They would have loved that." He felt her hand clench, nails digging into his skin rather painfully, but said nothing.

"Yeah. They announced that we were under arrest for antagonising a Dai Li officer. A couple of twelve-year-old kids! That's how horrible they are. They just don't care, about anything." Jin blinked rapidly, vision wobbling. "But... Our brother, he saw everything, and of course he wasn't going to let that sit. He pulled a house down on top of them, and told us to run, that he would take care of everything. So we did. We got out of there, as fast as we could. We waited for a couple of hours, and then went home, hoping it would be safe. It was, we didn't get any Dai Li knocking on our door, but..." She rubbed at her eyes with a free hand.

"Did you see him again?" Zuko asked quietly, his grip almost as solid as hers. Jin sniffed, and shook her head slowly, trying to keep her breathing even.

"Never again. He was gone. A friend of his witnessed everything, he explained to us later that Meng killed one of the Dai Li when he was trying to fend them off, and the surviving agent knocked him out and he was taken away. That's kind of why Ma's told us to not bend in public anymore. She's paranoid, but also a little right. It is dangerous when it goes wrong."

"Oh..." Zuko mumbled, not knowing what to say... "Jin, I'm so sorry..."

"It makes me think he's been executed." She looked at the ground as they walked. "Killing a Dai Li agent would warrant an execution I'm sure, even at sixteen. I hope that's the case, anyway."

"You do?" Zuko was confused. "Why? Why would you wish death on your brother?"

"Because it's the not knowing which is tearing our family to pieces." Jin explained. "To think he could be alive, somewhere, is slowly driving my mother insane. He was her favourite, everyone knew it. He was Dad's favourite too. The golden child of the family. Don't get me wrong Lee, I loved him so much, and I miss him like nothing else. I want him to be alive, more than anything. But, in my heart, I know he's not. I know there's just no way he would have been kept alive by them, not for this long. If I could have anything, it would be to have confirmation that he's dead. Written proof so I can show everyone and my family can finally move on."

"Wouldn't you rather have him here? Have him returned to you?" The teenager frowned. "Sorry, I just don't understand... Not knowing is a blessing, Jin. It give you hope, you could think that they might still be alive, that there might be a chance, no matter how stupid it is, that you'll see them again." He was speaking more personally now, the image of his mother fixed in his mind. "Because your life without them is so horrible, sometimes the only thing that keeps you going is the hope that they might be out there so they can make everything okay again."

"Your Mother." She quietly guessed, watching him nod slowly. "You said she was gone, but not..."

"I don't know." Zuko said. "I _hope_ she's alive, of course. And it still keeps me up a lot of nights, wondering. But I'm not going to let it destroy me. I'm going to look for her, after all of this is over. When I'll be able to ask after her by her real name, not some alias I don't even know."

"... I hope you find her." She said gently. "I really do. No one deserves to lose their mother, not if they're just a kid." Jin sighed. "It messes them up for life. My cousins collapsed after my Aunt Lanfen died, and they're still not the same, eight years on."

"Sometimes, I can't help but wonder what might have happened." He sighed. "If she never left. I definitely wouldn't be here. I'd still be in the palace, with everything intact."

"You'd be evil." Jin wrinkled her nose. "Filled with hate against the Earth Kingdom and wanting to raze Ba Sing Se, sworn enemy of the Avatar and all that. Plus, when the good guys win, you'd kind of either be killed or imprisoned."

"I know, I know." He sighed. "That's what I tell myself, whenever I get homesick, when I think about how, if I was lucky enough and worked at it, I could capture the Avatar, bring him to my father, and have everything restored. I know that's not the right way, I know that it's evil and wrong of me, and my Uncle would be so angry and ashamed if he knew what I thought. I... I don't know why I even still have these stupid fantasies about going back. I'm not the same person I was. I know everything that's happening is wrong, I know my father is a bastard, and nothing will change that. I wouldn't be happy there."

"Exactly." Jin nodded. "That's why you have to be happy here, Lee. I mean, you have to admit, you've got it made. The greatest Uncle I've ever met, a big fancy apartment, a cushy tea-serving job with a, awesome wage..."

"It's not _that_ big." He said modestly, thinking of the massive wealth he used to be heir to. "I mean, it is just a serving job, Uncle has to give me a realistic wage."

"Lee, what _I _earn per week would keep our household afloat for about a day." She noted. "You daily wage could probably run our family for a month."

"Things in the Upper Ring are a _lot_ more expensive." Zuko pointed out. "You've seen how much Uncle charges for his tea. And by their standards, that's reasonable." He blinked, the conversation on price reminding him of the little box in his pocket with a jolt. "Oh! I can't believe I forgot!" He paused in his walk, disentangling his hands from Jin's. "I should have given this to you earlier... I'm sorry."

"Should have given me what?" She froze as he withdrew the box from his pocket. It was square, about the size of her palm, made from a dark, reddish wood, which she took to be teak. The lid was carved, detailing a single flower, with a long thick stem, sprouting ornately detailed leaves. "Oh _Lee._" She breathed, taking the box from his hands. "What... Why?"

"I've been a real idiot." He sighed. "You were only trying to be nice, and understanding, and I was a huge prat. Uncle was the one who suggested I give you something, to help say I was sorry, and advanced my wages for the week. Although, I think he just meant some flowers or something... But I saw this in a shop, and I thought that it was really nice, and kind of unique. So that way, you can always keep it, and... I dunno... It might be a little memento or something." With slightly trembling hands, Jin lifted the lid on the box. "If you don't like it, I can take it back and get something else."

"O-Oh my..." Jin's heart seized up as she stared at the gift, lying on a little bed of pale green silk. It was a necklace, a little rectangular pendant a couple of inches long, hanging on a thin gold chain. Made of a beautiful mid-green jade, edged with gold, the pendant bore a dragon, twisting about the minute space, emitting a jet of flame. "Lee..."

"You don't like it." He winced, heart sinking a little. He should have chosen something more conventional, a symbol for peace or luck, or a nice flower. "That's all right. The shopkeeper sounded happy enough to exchange it if I wa-"

"No, Lee, it's _beautiful."_ Her voice shaking, the girl wrapped her arms tightly about his neck, still admiring the jewellery. "I love it." She murmured as she pulled away, her free hand covering her mouth. "I... How could you... You shouldn't have, Lee."

"Well, I'm glad you like it." He lifted the necklace out of the box, releasing the clasp. Jin turned around, lifting her ponytail so Zuko could fasten the piece around her neck. "I was a bit wary about my choosing a dragon... I thought you might have preferred something nicer, like a flower or a symbol."

"From you, Lee, I would have preferred a dragon far more. Flowers are sweet and pretty and I'd never ever say no to a bunch, but... Sort of empty. A gigantic, extinct, fire-breathing monster is way cooler." She turned around, her smile stretching almost from ear to ear. "But... You didn't have to buy me fancy gold jewellery just to apologize again. I know you're sorry."

"Maybe." He shrugged. "But I still wanted to get it. Is there something wrong with wanting to buy you something nice?"

"No, of course not." Her fingertips grazed the jade pendant. "Thank you Lee, so much." The stone, cold against her skin, was slowly warming. "Now, where did was this place you wanted us to go from here?"

"Let's get to the Middle Ring entrance, the one that's a little north-east." He explained. "From there, it's not far."

"Sure." She started to walk, taking his hand. "Let's go." She turned back to look at him. Zuko staring at her, the strange girl, who liked dragons more than flowers, who thought his lineage was interesting, not terrifying. Whose appetite was far bigger than his, but gorgeous, sensual figure refused to show it. Who knew everything, and couldn't have cared less. It was a pure, innocent love of hers, without a fraction of judgement. A warmth that he hadn't felt since his mother.

He broke into a wide smile. "Sure."

* * *

Sokka was, admittedly, more than a little nervous.

How long had he dreamed of this day? It was where his mind drifted, when he was curled inside his sleeping bag at the end of a long day, when he dozed at the edge of a campsite where Aang, Katara, and later Toph, practised their bending. It was a fantasy of his, not so secret, that he mentally indulged in, at every opportunity. Ever since he was a little boy, less than four, his father whispering words in his ear as his mother dealt with a fussing Katara. Stories of heroism, of epic battles, forlorn hopes, death-and-glory clashes. Stories of a warrior. Sokka was bred on them, and for as long as he could remember, he fiercely anticipated the day he would finally be able to prove himself to his father, show that he measured up to the heroes of myth and legend, and more importantly, to Hakoda himself.

His father was right, he didn't have to prove himself. Sokka knew this. But it was self-confirmation, more than anything. A form of vanity. He'd fought before, alongside Aang and his sister, and, although he emerged the victor less often than he liked, the experience had to count for something, right?

Slowly, Sokka stood up, enjoying the night spring breeze, salty and gusty from the sea, in his face. Idly, he turned his jawbone blade in his hand, watching as his fellow tribesman ferried back and forth, arms loaded with barrels, rolls of blankets and furs, bundles of poles. Sokka offered to help, but his father advised that he stay back, as he had no idea where everything was packed. So like an eager child, waiting for his parents to pack for a long and exciting journey, he waited. And waited. By the looks of things, however, they were winding up, and getting ready to go.

"Time to head off." Hakoda smiled warmly as he stood beside his son, a hand on the teenagers' shoulder. "Got everything ready?"

"I've been ready for a long time." Sokka looked up at his father with a smile.

"I know you have." The Chief sighed. "Sokka... The battleground is no place for a thirteen-year-old boy. I hardly had a choice."

"I know that Dad." Sokka arched his back in a stretch. "I'm not holding anything against you for that." He turned to regard his father. "I understand." Hakoda smiled again, and opened his mouth to respond, when a shout from Bato made him start, and look up.

"It's Aang!" Bato pointed at the dark shape crossing the sky, which loomed closer, until Sokka made out Aang clearly against the moonlight. "But why..."

"Oh no." Sokka murmured as Appa landed on the beach, groaning as he did so. "Aang, what's going on?" He demanded, rushing towards the bison as Aang leapt gracefully onto the sand. "Why are you so early? What's wr..." He trailed off as he saw Aang's face, his heart plummeting. "Aang?"

"It's Katara." He leaped forward, taking the Water Tribe boy by the wrist. "I was meditating, releasing my final chakra so the cosmic energy could flow – had to surrender earthly attachment. Had to let her go and I tried but I couldn't - s-something happened – I was in her head I was hearing her think-"

"Aang." Sokka pulled his arm free, and rested his hands on the boys' shoulders. Aang was hyperventilating, his words little more than garbled fractions of sentences. "Slow down. What's wrong with Katara? Is she in some kind of trouble?" A few feet behind the boys, Hakoda's heartrate quickened in dread.

"Yes!" Aang blurted out. "She's trapped! Azula has her prisoner. We have to go _now_."

"Right." Sokka turned to his father, inwardly sick with disappointment. "Dad, I-"

"Go." His jaw was tight, worry for his daughter evident. "Quickly." A quick nod, and Sokka ran towards the bison, grabbing fistfuls of hair as he clambered on his head. Aang leapt easily up beside his friend, taking the reins with shaking hands.

"I hope for her sake you're wrong." Sokka whispered as Appa rose into the air, clinging on to dear life.

"Me too." His voice was trembling. "But... I don't think I am... It was so real Sokka. It was more than a vision. I... I was in her _head_. I saw Azula. She's got Katara. And it's a trap. She doesn't want us to go and rescue her."

"Well, we're going to, whether she likes it or not." Sokka muttered, feeling more than a little sick. "Aang, we're not expected back for days. And Azula isn't going to anticipate you using weird Avatar powers to get into Katara's head. We've got the upper hand here."

"... Y-Yeah..." Aang gripped the reins, still deeply troubled. "Sokka... There's something else you really need to know."

"Yeah?" He blinked. "What?" Aang looked over at his friend, trying so hard to keep his composure. "... Aang?"

"A-Azula... She was disguised as a Kyoshi warrior." Aang murmured. "That's how they got in to Ba Sing Se... How they were able to get to Katara."

"What?" Sokka's eyes widened. "But... If they're disguised as the Kyoshi warriors, then..." He held his hands over his mouth, a lump of ice in his stomach. "_Suki."_

"I'm sorry Sokka." Aang breathed, turning his attention back to the moonlit landscape. "I really am. But... We have to focus on Katara right now."

"I-I know." Sokka choked out, feeling as though his chest had caved in. _Spirits... How could this have __**happened?**_ So soon after..._ First Yue and now..._

"We should try and find Toph when we get to the city." Aang spoke up after a long silence. At his side, Sokka was staring intently at the moon, trying to maintain his composure. "Okay?"

"Yeah..." His voice horse, Sokka turned back, craning his neck one more time to catch a final glimpse of his fathers' ships, tiny blackened pinpricks on a brilliantly silver basin of water, before they were swallowed up in the gentle waves. "We're gonna get her Aang. That _cow_ Azula can't get away with this." At his side Aang nodded. "So..." Pushing thoughts of Suki to the back of his mind, Sokka turned to his friend. "Did you manage to control the Avatar State with the Guru or..."

"I had to leave." Aang swallowed. "I couldn't... Not while Katara's in trouble like this... I'll go back, after this is over."

"Sounds like a plan." Sokka slowly leaned against the flying bison, gripping large handfuls of soft white fur.

"Hopefully, I won't need it." Aang's eyes were focused on his hands. "A-According to Guru Pathik, it's locked. U-Until I can open the final chakra."

"We'll be okay." Sokka said resolutely, wincing a little at the cold night air. He sat back up, wrapping an arm loosely about Aang's shoulders. The boy blinked rapidly, taking deep breaths, trying to clear his head.

"You're right." He said softly, his voice almost lost in the air. "Let's just focus on getting there as soon as possible." Aang focused intently on the horizon, jaw set. "If we make good enough time, we might be able to rest for a couple of hours."

But try as he might, Aang just couldn't shake the image of a pair of golden eyes, as sharp and blazing as embers, from his mind.

* * *

Argh... If a scene doesn't involve Zuko or Jin, it absolutely refuses to be longer than a few paragraphs X.x Suuuuucks.

All right, so, when will you see more? I am working on rewriting the first chapter at least. I've picked out a few niggling narrative anachronisms, and issues with characterisation that fill me with self-loathing. And I want to get that out within a couple of weeks, ideally before my holidays end, but we shall see. And also, I am working on writing another fic. Not much to say about it, but involves (another) rare pairing, and involves a situation I haven't seen before (but I haven't exactly looked hard haha), so I'm quite excited, and want to work on that too. But this will remain my primary objective. I also have a couple of oneshots that are bursting to get out.

Stupid brain. STOP COMING UP WITH WONDERFUL IDEAS THAT NEED ATTENTION!

Oh well. PLZ to be review? Many thanks.


	14. Chapter 14

'Sup Gangsta's.

This is a little late, I know. But it's long! AND WE HAVE AKTSHUN TEIMEZ YUSS!

Well kinda. Party down anyways lol.

Disclaimer: I own nothing -sniffs-

* * *

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

Jin looked up from her plate of food with a frown, the chopsticks freezing around a morsel of food.

"Of course you can." She set the utensils down, resting her hands on the low table. "Shoot."

"Well..." He took a sip of his tea, before setting the cup down. "It's kind of weird... I don't know how to phrase it."

"Do your best then." The girl rested her elbows against the dark wood, chin setting on tented fingers. She watched him with a soft smile on her face, the green light of the candles throwing his face into eerie shadow.

"When..." He bit his lip, and looked up. "When did you... grow up?"

"Grow up?" Jin straightened up a little. "When I started working and pulling my weight at home, I guess. Why?"

"No, that's not the right term." Zuko uttered, raking his fingers through his hair. "I mean.. When did you start to... Take responsibility, I guess."

"Responsibility for what? My mistakes you mean?" She tilted her head to one side.

"No, not mistakes... Situation." He sighed. "It's just... It's just been that... for so long, I was so miserable. I tormented myself, but I blamed external forces. I was so convinced that the universe was out to send me through hell, on purpose. Instead of taking control of the situation, I just got angry and lashed out at everyone. Including you. But when I had the choice, which has probably changed my life, I stopped being passive. And you know, things have turned out well. I am happy. Genuinely happy. Do you know... what I'm meaning?"

"Yes..." Jin's eyes were lowered. "I know what you mean now." She ran her finger over a chip in the tabletop. "I had to make a choice as well. Near the end of last year. But it wasn't the right one."

"I'm sorry." He said tactfully, gathering from her body language that it was something she wasn't even going to think of discussing. "But I've done a lot of stupid things before. A _lot_. And I just... feel like they're always going to hang over me. I can't redeem myself, not completely."

"I wish I had your sense of honour, Lee." She sighed, taking a small sip of her tea.

"Well... I had a pretty hard lesson." He picked up a morsel of food, examining it closely. Jin's eyes lingered on his scar for a moment. "Even if it was for the wrong ideals... I've still learned a lot."

"You have." Jin smiled. "Even in these past few weeks... You've changed so drastically, and opened up so much. I could have never imagined that there was such a beautiful person underneath that scowl."

"I'm not a beautiful person." Zuko said flatly around a mouthful of food. "I'm nearly unbearable to be around. I have a huge self-image problem. I have possibly the shortest temper in the world."

"Well, I think you are." Jin said honestly. "You're sweet and kind and honest and... Judging by the look you're giving me, I should shut up." She giggled, one hand covering her mouth. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well..." He muttered, looking down at his food, but Jin distinctly saw him give the barest glimpse of a grin.

"I saw that!" The girl beamed, leaning forward a little. "Don't lie to me."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Zuko forced the most innocent expression he could, taking a sip of his drink.

"Liar." Jin shook her head. "There's nothing wrong with enjoying a compliment from your girlfriend, Lee."

"... I know." He scratched the back of his head. "I just... Look, never mind." He pushed away his empty plate with a sigh. "Are you going to be finished soon?"

"I guess, why?" Jin lowered her chopsticks with a frown. "Lee, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, I was just wondering." He rested his chin on his hand, lightly drumming his fingers on the tabletop.

"You're not one for conversation, are you?" She spoke teasingly. Zuko shrugged. "Aw..." Jin frowned. "Are you okay, Lee?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Zuko mumbled distractedly. "I was just thinking..." He sighed, draining the last of his tea. "Did you have any time you had to be home tonight?"

"To be honest, the longer I'm out, the better." Jin admitted. "I don't think my parents would be happy to see me right now. Why? Did you have something planned?"

"I've just been thinking, is all..." Zuko looked down at his empty plate. _That's why he's been so oddly quiet._ Jin frowned. That was an understatement. Zuko felt almost in a daze, his conscious mind almost lost to the inner workings of his subconscious. He had an idea. A crazy, stupid, ridiculous idea, one that he couldn't believe he was entertaining. _Why am I thinking of returning to Lake Laogai?_ The last time he was there, it ended... Well, he wasn't really sure. He came away with a polarized mindset to when he came in. That much he knew. But the expression she wore when they first met a couple of hours ago, of a cracked facade, red-rimmed eyes and shaking lips, a heartbreaking attempt to maintain a normal exterior, when inside she was so close to collapse... It tugged at something in his chest. Zuko was consumed with an overwhelming desire to fix it. He cared for her, deeply. And it wasn't something he was ashamed of thinking. Even if she was a lowly peasant, she had a spark, something inside her that wasn't normal. She was clever, if uneducated, flirtatious, kind, and incredibly strong-willed. _She doesn't deserve what she's got..._ Zuko ran his chopstick through a little puddle of soya sauce, still thinking. _I've caused her a lot of grief... And trouble with her family. _He winced at the thought, unseen by the girl. _She won't say outright... But they're really angry at her. And it's my fault. They probably hate me now... Not that I give a damn, I couldn't really care less, but it's important to her... And I'm supposed to be on the side of good now... I shouldn't have any qualms about some sort of heroic rescue... Right?_

"About what?" She prompted him after a few endless moments of silence. Zuko blinked, as though he had been in his own world and her short worlds had jerked him roughly back to reality.

"Well..." He swallowed, heart hammering, and leaned in a little. "Jin... How would you like to break your brother out of prison?" Jin froze, chopsticks clattering to her plate.

"What..." She breathed, her voice soft and eerie, a strained whisper in her throat.

"I know where they're kept." Zuko kept his voice low. "I've been there. Jin, I don't think he's dead. The Dai Li, they don't kill. There are so many cells, you have no idea. He would be there. I know how to get in and out without being spotted."

"You... You're not..."

"It's under Lake Laogai. It's a fair journey, but it's worth it. It takes earthbending to access, but you can do that easily enough."

"I... I can't..."

"It would be a stealth mission, not one of attack. As long as you keep low and keep quiet, everything would go successfully." Zuko stared her in the eye. He was being honest, she realised with a rush. He actually thought that it would be possible. "I'm serious here. We can go in, find him, and get out. We won't be arrested. I won't let that happen." _If they knew who I was..._ He closed his mind to the thought.

"You... You really mean it." Jin murmured slowly, her hands trembling. "You want to do it..."

"Jin." On an impulse, Zuko took her shaking hands in his, squeezing gently. "It's a scary thought, I know. And I know you're trying to keep your nose clean and stay out of trouble."

"Let's do it." Jin swallowed, straightening her back. Zuko blinked. "Lee... He's in there because of me. My brother mainly, but I had a lot to do with it. If you think we can... I trust you."

"I know we can." Zuko tightened his hold on her hands. "We'll be home by dawn, if we hurry. Sorry to cut this date short, but-"

"Let's go." Jin cut over him, eyes wide. "Before I lose my nerve." His hands tightened against hers, the male teenager biting his lower lip.

"All right."

* * *

"Let me _out _of here!" Katara kicked at the door angrily, before pounding her fists on it. The Dai Li agent slid the heavy bolt home, ignoring the screaming girl. "I'm _warning_ you! You don't want to do this!" Katara heard the pair of Dai Li walk primly down the corridor, little more than a cave, their footsteps echoing against the rock. "Let me go!" She gave a low moan of exasperation, and sank to her knees, eyes stinging. "You can't do this..." She breathed, trying so hard to hold her composure.

"Actually, they can." The girl jumped. Curiously, Katara turned, realising with a jump that someone was in the cell with her. "Yeah... I'm here."

"Who are you?" She demanded, trying to see in the pitch black. "Wh-why are you here?"

"Same reason as everyone." The voice sounded. "I annoyed the Dai Li. Actually, I killed one. It was an accident, but still, murder is murder." He spoke with heavy regret.

"How... Long have you been here?" Something in Katara's stomach sank a little further.

"In this cell here? Just a couple of days. I was held under Lake Laogai for a while, but then all of a sudden, we're upped and moved to a new place. There's normally two or even three to a room. It's got way less cells... they are a bit bigger though, which is something..."

"Under Lake Laogai? How long were you under Lake Laogai?" Katara swallowed, thinking of the brainwashed Jet. _Obviously they don't try to hypnotise them all..._

"Oh! Hmmm... If my calculations are correct, four years, give or take a month or so." Katara's eyes widened in the dark, gasping. "Yeah, it's been a while... You sound like new blood though. What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Katara stood up again. "It's not- Do you _know_ what the Dai Li are doing? Right now?"

"Something illegal?" He chuckled a little in the dark. "Endangering the life of the residents of Ba Sing Se, invading personal privacy and punishing innocent citizens?"

"A coup." She heard him gasp softly. "And they're using Princess Azula from the Fire Nation to do it!" She leaned against the door, trying hard to keep her voice steady. "I'm here because of Aang."

"Aang?" The male voice sounded curious. "Who's that? Some sort of Resistance leader?"

"You could say that." She wiped hurriedly at her eyes. "He's the Avatar."

"Woa, what?" Katara heard him sit up. "I thought he was gone."

"He's not." The young bender shook her head. "He's alive. But when he gets back from the Eastern Air Temple, he's going to fall right into this trap. And then the Fire Nation will have him once and for all..." She sniffed. "I don't know what to do."

"Wait." He spoke slowly. "You mean to say... The Fire Lord's daughter has infiltrated the city? And she has seized control of the Dai Li?"

"Yes." Katara felt as though she had swallowed sand. The young man in the dark let out a low whistle. "It's... Horrible."

"And so Aang... The Avatar, why doesn't he just take this Princess Azula out? There's no way a girl could defeat the master of all four elements."

"He's not." She murmured. "Aang's only twelve. He's perfect at Airbending and he's good at Water and Earth, but he's not a fully realised Avatar. He's younger than Azula by two years."

"Oh..." He swallowed. "So... You're telling me that Ba Sing Se is pretty much in the hands of the Fire Lord? The last stronghold of the only opposition of the Fire Nation?"

"Yes." Katara breathed, head in her hands. "It's hopeless. Everything... It's just hopeless."

"Well... Nothing's ever completely hopeless." The young man tried to sound encouraging. "I've seen people lose hope. They descend into madness here. If they're lucky, they die reasonably quickly; else they stop eating and starve to death." Katara wrinkled her nose. "It's the only reason I'm somewhat sane. I know I'm most probably going to die here. I probably won't ever see my family again, but I'm still going to hope that something might happen. If I give up, then the Dai Li have won. And I'm sure as hell not going to let them beat me. If you give up hope and think that the Avatar is going to be defeated, then Princess Azula's won already."

"But things just seem to get worse and worse." Katara slid down to the floor, legs spread out before her. "We've gotten out of sticky situations, but this just seems utterly inescapable. Azula's got a watertight plan, I've heard it."

"No plan is ever watertight." She was contradicted. "What if some sort of miracle happens? What if you're broken out? What if this Princess Azula is killed in the coup? There's a lot of what-if's."

"We don't get that sort of luck." She muttered drily. "Not us." Katara wondered if her brother still held his 'upbeat attitude'.

"I agree, it sounds stupid." He sighed. "But I've been waiting on the same thing. There's always some sort of light at the end of the tunnel, even if it's just a pinhole."

"I guess..." Katara sighed. "I just don't have much hope anymore..."

"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way." The young man yawned. "Do you think you might be able to keep it down for a few hours though? I need sleep badly."

"... Okay." Katara nodded, realising with a start that it must have been very late. She probably woke him up with her yelling. _Oops..._

"Thanks." She heard him stretch out on the floor. "Oh, I never caught your name. What is it they call you?"

"I'm Katara." She murmured. "From the Southern Water Tribe."

"Neat." He smiled weakly in the dark. "Nice to meet you Katara. My name's Meng."

* * *

Jin was shivering, but it was not from the cold.

It was nerves that drove the tremors. Anticipation, excitement, and fear. The idea that she would actually be able to see her brother again, to rescue him from an imprisonment she partly instigated, was making her head spin. The walk was silent, Jin lost in her own thoughts and Zuko not in the mood to drum up conversation. He was scolding himself in his head, an impending sense of regret approaching. Was it really worth it, to go down here, to risk everything in the hope that they might find someone who had probably gone insane from their imprisonment?

Fortunately, every time this thought flashed across Zuko's mind, he needed only to look over at the dark-haired girl that mirrored his step, features hardened in determination, with an absolutely beautiful expression of hope in her eyes that he hadn't seen before. He remembered clearly the state she was in earlier in the evening, how she tried so hard to hide her tears, in a futile attempt to conceal the slowly healing wound that was repeatedly picked open for the past four years. It wasn't fair. He hated to see her miserable and instinctively, he was doing everything he could to make her happy. True, it was an impulse to go to Lake Laogai, something that he didn't think through properly before announcing to the girl. If he had, he would have decided against it, refused to get her hopes up, and would have kept quiet. But to see her so happy, brimming with a borderline naive hope that he hadn't experienced himself in an unimaginable time...

It was completely worth it.

"We're almost there." His slightly scratchy voice broke through the silver-brushed night, Jin blinking as she was pulled out of her torpor. "You all right?"

"Yes." She reached out in the silvery light, found Zuko's hand, and clenched it tight, her palms sweating. "A-A little nervous... What will happen if we're caught?"

"We won't be." He spoke confidently, walking slightly ahead of her as they wove their way between the masses of mountains.

"No, I mean it." Jin urged. "If they know who you are... They'll kill you."

"I know." Zuko spoke tightly, eyes fixed on the landscape before him. "But they're not going to catch us, Jin. I swear. Trust me."

"I trust you." Jin assured the teenager. "I do. But... I'm just a bit nervous."

"We can back out." He paused in his walk, turning back to her.

"No." She shook her head resolutely. "We came this far. We have to try. And... The thought of him being down there... If I turned back now, I'd never forgive myself."

"I understand." He said began to walk again, Jin's fingers still enlaced with his. "Sometimes, the stupidest, most rash decisions end up being the most right."

"But only sometimes." She reminded him gently.

"Well, it's about time I got some good luck." Zuko murmured, a note of bitterness in his voice. "We're there." He spoke again after a few moments of silence, the narrow gorge they tread through widening into the open lakeside, a naked bank, Jin's breath catching in her throat.

"It's so beautiful..." She mumbled, her fingers slipping from his. The moon, which had passed its' apex in the sky, indicating it had passed midnight some time ago, glimmered beautifully on the lake, which stretched as far as she could see to her right, the shoreline in front of her little more than a far off jagged line on the midnight horizon. The lake looked as though it was composed of mercury, not water. How could something so still, so beautiful, harbour such a dark and horrific secret?

"I guess." He mumbled, walking past her, to the shore's edge. "It's here."

"The entrance?" Jin approached him, one hand resting on his shoulder. Zuko nodded. "Where? I can't see it."

"Because it's underground." He looked over at her. "At the bottom of the lake." Jin's eyes widened. "Do you think you'll be able to do it?"

"I-I can try..." She murmured dubiously, chewing on a fingernail. "But Zuko... You know I'm not that good... I've never had any kind of training. What I know I either found out by messing around or copied off Meng..." She swallowed. "I can do it." The passing of his name through her lips hardened her resolve.

"I know you can." He forced a smile, standing back. Jin took in a deep breath, folding the sleeves of her dress back to her elbows. She'd never attempted to bend anything so large before, and was a little embarrassed that Zuko would see what a complete amateur she was. She kicked off her shoes, to get a better feel of the ground, and took another step forward, the gentle lapping of the water dampening the hem of her robes and chilling her toes. Biting on the tip of her tongue, Jin stretched out her arms, willing with all her heart for the ground to rise. For a moment, nothing happened. But then, she felt the earth grind and shudder beneath her, and eventually, the rock broke the surface. With a small smile, she opened her eyes, feeling a little weak, but what she saw made her cheeks flush with embarrassment. It was broken, uneven, just a pile of rocks floating in the water.

"Oh no." She held her hands over her mouth. "I broke it... Zuko, I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to..."

"No, you didn't." He frowned, stepping forward. "It would have been pre-cut, and simple to raise. You didn't break it..." Golden eyes widened. "It's gone."

"What?" She looked over at him. "What do you mean, 'gone'? How can it be gone? The prison where they brainwash and hold everyone? How can it just disappear?"

"It was here." Zuko turned back, pointing. "I remember that hill. This is where the entry point is. But it's not here." He bit his lip. "They've moved it."

"What?"

"That's what they've done." He started to pace back and forth, eyes on the ground. "They've moved everything. Why would they shift everything though? They would have done it in just the space of a couple of days." He raised his head, snapping his fingers. "Aang. Of course. Of course the Avatar is going to shake things up. I know him, he wouldn't be letting something like that happen. He would have caused a stir, and the Dai Li got scared and moved everything in case the King found out." Jin shook her head, trying to take everything in.

"But what if the Earth King actually knows?" She suggested. "About the brain washing..."

"No." Zuko turned to her. "If he knew, it wouldn't be this secret. The Dai Li wouldn't be basing their operation here. The head of the Dai Li, Long Feng, he's behind this." He thought. "Jin... Do you know where they could be moved? Any sort of underground area near or in the city? Like an old mine or..."

"The Catacombs." She frowned a little. "I've heard of them. The Crystal Catacombs of Old Ba Sing Se." She looked him in the eye. "I've been shown an entrance to them by my older cousin Yongrui, but I never went in. I was too scared... But apparently it's a real labyrinth of tunnels and chambers. They could hide anything there..."

"All right." He nodded. "We'll have to move quickly in order to be in and out by sunrise. I don't really want to have to be doing this by daylight, it's too dangerous." He turned back, beginning to walk away from the lake shore.

"But... Zuko, wait." She stepped into her borrowed shoes, jogging lightly until she caught up with the young Prince. "This isn't such a good idea..."

"You're not still worried about getting caught, are you?" He sighed, raising his eyes heavenward for a moment.

"No, it's not that..." She bit her lip. "Zuko, something is going down. Something big. Why would the Dai Li move their base of operations like this? We need to tell people... We need to do something."

"Jin, we can't do anything." He sighed. "If we tell people, the Dai Li will just end up arresting us. Two people can't do anything, not in a city this big. You have to focus on keeping your family and friends safe and out of trouble."

"I-I..." She shook her head. "But... What if something is seriously wrong? What if it's not just the prison, and they're doing something worse?"

"Jin, what is the most important thing to you?" He turned to her seriously, his pale skin positively shining in the moonlight.

"My family, of course." She frowned, not having to think for even a second.

"Exactly." He sounded a little sad. With a pang, Jin realised he was probably thinking of the shattered remnants of his own family. "You have to do your utmost to keep them safe. Stirring up trouble is the wrong way to do it. Jin, no matter what happens, even if the Earth Kingdom falls and the Fire Nation wins the war, life for you isn't going to be much more different. Such shifts in power only have a real effect on the top. My father wouldn't raze a city as big as Ba Sing Se, it's too economically valuable. Keeping out of sight, out of mind, remaining another faceless figure in the crowd, it's the only way to survive."

"Is that why you're here?" She took his hand gently. "I mean, I know about the whole new life thing, but really, that's why you're here. Because it's always going to be safe."

"I also have nowhere else to go, but that a really important factor, yes." Zuko pressed his fingertips against her palm. "I don't know what Uncle wants. There's things he's said, some of them very old, when I was a child, which makes me sure he's got some sort of ulterior motive. But I just want to make sure I can get through everything without getting arrested and executed."

"But Zuko, you can't hide from who you are." She tightened her hold on his hand. "You hide from your father forever."

"I know." He swallowed. "Azula too. They won't stop looking for me. The best I can hope for is that someday I'll find a place so isolated and ostracized that they'll finally give up on their hunt."

"You can also hope that the Avatar defeats him by the summer." She reminded him gently. Zuko snorted. "What?"

"Four children cannot beat my father and sister." He said flatly. "Even if one of them is the Avatar. It's stupid to have faith in them."

"Well..." She drew in a breath. "Maybe they just need... Help." He looked over at her, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"What kind of help?" He asked, only vaguely aware of what Jin was alluding to.

"Well... Your help." She suggested after a moments' pause, clinging tightly to his hand. Zuko froze in his walk, Jin wincing as her hand was yanked a little, brain failing to immediately register that the teen had stopped. "What?"

"You've got to be joking." He yanked his hand free, crossing his arms. "Me. Join the Avatar. It's a damn joke."

"I'm not." She said earnestly. "Zuko... You-"

"They hate me." He cut over her. "All of them. Aang... He said in another life, we may have been friends. That's the closest to co-operation we've ever been." He bit his lip. "He saved my life in the North Pole, but that was only repaying a debt after I rescued him from Zhao. They wouldn't want anything to do with me, Jin. In their eyes, I'll always be evil."

"You spoke about joining the Avatar, Zuko."

"Yeah, and I also said there was no way." He sighed. "Please, Jin. Don't push it."

"What if they liked you?" She suggested. "What if realised that you were on their side, you have the same goal, and that you could help? What if they asked you to join them? What would you do then?"

"I-I don't know..." He frowned. "Why? Why does it matter? Why do you want to know?"

"Because, Zuko." She was becoming exasperated. "Why do you sell yourself short? Don't you realise how important you are?"

"I'm not important, Jin."

"Yes, you are." She contradicted him. "You're the Fire Lords' _son_, Zuko."

"And I wish I wasn't." He muttered. "I don't think of him as a father. I haven't in a long time. And his feelings for me... are pretty clear."

"You don't get my..." Jin sighed in exasperation. "All right. Forget I said anything. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."

"It's all right." He touched her shoulder, giving it a gentle, affectionate squeeze. "Jin... I know you're trying to understand, and I do appreciate it. But... It's just too complicated, too messed up. I don't want to play hero. I want to stay here, with you and Uncle and be safe." She looked at him, and nodded sadly, before settling into a faster pace, conscious of the time. Zuko followed suit, silently.

But all the same, no matter how hard he tried to push Jin's idea to the back of his head, out of his thoughts, his mind dared to tease him with the vague possibility of redemption.

* * *

"Sokka... Sokka. Are you awake?"

"Huh? Oh... Oh yeah." He'd been dozing against Appa, the beast's soft fur making an excellent makeshift pillow. The teenager rubbed his eyes tiredly, letting out a magnificent yawn before straightening, seeing Aang sitting straight-backed, hands gripping the reins. "Did you get any sleep?" The young nomad only gave his friend a glance, his strained expression speaking words enough. "Oh."

"I tried." His voice was scratchy. "But... I can't stop thinking about Katara. What if Azula's hurt her?" Aang's voice cracked, and he bowed his head.

"If she has, then she better get ready for some severe retribution." Sokka promised the young boy. "We're going to get her for this. Trap or not, she's not ready for us. We've got the upper hand here."

"I know, I know..." Aang didn't look convinced, however. "But... horrible scenarios are floating around in my head anyway. My brain... Just likes torturing me right now."

"I really think you need rest." Sokka said comfortingly, resting a hand on his shoulder. "We're making really good time, Aang. Let's just stop until sunrise, it's only a few hours away."

"No." Aang pulled his shoulder free, gripping the reins even more tightly. "I can't. We have to get there as soon as possible Sokka."

"Then I can take the reins." He didn't the tightness of Aang's jaw, or the dark shadows under his eyes.

"No." Aang pulled himself away, eyes fixated on the land before him. "I'll be fine." Sokka's brow furrowed in deep concern. "Sokka, I mean it. Go back to sleep or something." He refused to look at the elder boy, his own insides twisted with guilt and shame. _Why did we split up? Why did I leave her? _Aang blinked rapidly. _If something has happened... I'll never forgive myself... _

_I'm not going to hold back against Azula._ He hardened himself with determination. _It's about time I started being more assertive. Stronger. _

"All right." Sokka slowly closed his eyes, feeling more than a little ill himself. _Suki._ He was more worried about her than Katara. It wasn't that he cared more – Katara won, hands down. But while Katara was a powerful bender who could hold her own against Azula, Suki, although she was a good fighter, would never be close to a match for the Fire Nation Princess. And Azula needed Katara. She needed her to get to Aang. She didn't _need_ Suki. Whether the Kyoshi warrior lived or died, wouldn't have remotely been her concern. _I can't lose anyone else... Not Katara or Suki._

Both of the male were steeled in their resolve. What Azula had done was too much. She had gone too far. Neither was willing to let her get away with this. And they wouldn't. 

_I'm going to make her pay._ Aang swallowed. _She's gotten away with this for too long. I'm going to make her pay for what she's-_

_What am I **saying?**_ He gasped aloud, the sound causing Sokka to start. The teenager looked at Aang with concern, the nomad looking close to tears.

"A-Aang?" He ventured cautiously, leaning towards him, one hand on an orange-clothed shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"I... I hate her Sokka." Aang spoke softly, his voice shaking. "I want to _hurt_ her for this. I want to make her suffer." Sokka frowned in confusion, but as he realised the implications of Aang's thoughts, blue eyes widened.

"Aang... I do too." He admitted quietly. "It's... It's okay."

"No, it's not." Aang muttered savagely. "They didn't get it Sokka. The monks didn't understand. That's the only explanation I can think of! How am I supposed to love and respect everyone? How can I to _her?"_

"Aang, I don't-"

"I've never felt like this before." Aang's hands were trembling violently, Sokka noticed with a lurch of his stomach. "Not to Zhao. Not to Zuko, n-not anyone."

"Zuko was just an angry kid. Zhao was an arrogant maniac. Azula... She's evil Aang. There's not one good bone in her body." Sokka tried to pacify the boy. "I mean, she shot her own uncle with lightning! Who does that, seriously?"

"I'm glad my Avatar state is locked." Aang said morosely. "If it wasn't... I'd be there right now. And I'd be uncontrollable. I'd... Kill her..."

"Don't say that." The Water Tribe boy said quickly, mouth dry. "Don't Aang. You wouldn't really." It was frightening, to see the sweet, kind-hearted child with the sunny disposition so incredibly disturbed.

"I shouldn't be thinking like this." He breathed, his voice almost lost in the cold night air. "I-I can't believe that I am..."

"You need to sleep."

"No." Aang shook his head. "Sokka... I need you to do something. I need you to promise me something."

"I-I guess..." He swallowed, staring at Aang's face in the sinking moonlight. "What is it? I want to know what it is before I make any promises."

"If I do lose control... Stop me."

"What?" Sokka frowned. "What do you mean..."

"I need you to tell me that you'll stop me from doing something I regret." Aang turned to look directly at Sokka, his eyes oddly dark in his shining face. "It's not about me being the Avatar this time Sokka. It's..." He looked up at the night sky, trying to find words that sufficed to express his turbulent emotions. "I'm the last of my people. All their teachings, their beliefs and philosophy... I'm what's left."

"Aang..."

"The value of life... It was the most important thing we were ever taught." Aang blinked rapidly. "Whenever I fight, I always show a little restraint. I'm terrified of slipping into the Avatar State. For that very reason." He lowered his head. "Because if I can only carry on one idea from my people, I want it to be that. Life is sacred Sokka. Above all else... Even Azula." He let out a long shuddering breath, trying so hard to quell his shaking. "I don't think I can trust myself... But... I can trust you Sokka. You're the most loyal person I've ever met."

"... Of course Aang." Sokka tightened his hand on the young airbenders' shoulder. "I'll always be here if you need me. We're a family."

Aang smiled.

* * *

"What's wrong?"

Jin was shaking, and Zuko could see it. The pair walked down the narrow streets of Ba Sing Se's lower ring, Zuko keeping a close ear and eye out for the Dai Li, one hand resting on the hilt of his Dao swords.

"I... Just can't stop thinking." The girl arched her neck, taking in the magnificent wall, which was said to be so high, birds sometimes couldn't fly over it. "We spent so much time, and money, building and maintaining this outer wall. Ba Sing Se has always prided itself on being impenetrable. That's how it earned it's damn name." She sighed, and looked down.

"But?" Zuko prompted her after a moment of apparent silence. She ran her fingers through her bangs, pushing the unruly hair back from her face.

"The inside is rotten." She said bluntly. "It's this decayed mess. This city clings to its rules and traditions. It's refusing to adapt and change to what's going on around it. The War, the refugees... It can't cope. The social structure looks solid... But it's not. We're controlled by fear. The city walks on a razor-thin line between order and chaos. And... That's what's going to the thing that destroys us. If the Fire Nation invade... It's going to be so easy for them to win, isn't it?"

"I told you, the only real change will be at the top. The Fire Nation can be brutal, but it's not in their code of honour. They're not actually meant to be the monsters that they have become. They might commit some atrocities in the smaller cities, away from the eyes of Generals and Colonels, where they can get away with it, but Ba Sing Se is too big, and too valuable. They'd be idiots to do it."

"It's not just the Fire Nation." Jin argued "It could be anything... It could be the citizens themselves, rising up against the Dai Li."

"What, like a rebellion?" Zuko's eyes widened. "That would certainly throw things into chaos..."

"Jiro and his friends talk about it." She swallowed. "Turn left up here." Zuko nodded. "They say it's the only way. To restore justice and balance. But it's a fantasy, and they know it. The human cost of something like that would be stupidly high."

"Rebellion seems like the answer." Zuko murmured. "But it never is. I was told about the story of Fire Lord Yaozu in a history lesson by my tutor... It didn't end well."

"We have a little while to go." She examined his face in the moonlight. "Tell me."

"All right." He drew in a short breath. "Fire Lord Yaozu reigned a thousand years ago. He was the tenth Fire Lord after the reign of the Grand Sages."

"Okay." Jin nodded, lost a little, but wasn't too worried about it.

"All right, so Fire Lord Yaozu was a cruel and harsh leader. He didn't wage war with the other Nations, but he was a domestic tyrant. He imposed heavy taxes on his people, demanding he deserved it, and then built massive castles for himself. He actually designed and built the Palace City, costing thousands of tons of gold. The people of the Fire Nation were totally impoverished."

"So they rose up against him?" Jin inquired curiously. Zuko shook his head.

"Not at first. It was his eldest son, Prince Zixin, who first spoke out, condemning what his father was doing, saying he was abusing his power and was a traitor to the people of the Fire Nation."

"I bet he didn't like that." Jin noted. _Makes what Zuko did sound like absolutely nothing..._

"You're right he didn't. He imprisoned Zixin and announced that he would be executed publicly, by way of Lingchi, death of a thousand cuts." Jin's eyes widened. "Fortunately, some rebels helped Zixin escape, and for ten years, he roamed the Fire Nation in hiding, gathering support and turning the people against Yaozu. Villages that were said to have harboured him were razed, and the villagers massacred. Thousands and thousands of people were killed, but Zixin survived. And exactly eleven years after his imprisonment, he managed to raise an army, and led a march against Fire Lord Yaozu and the Palace City." Zuko sighed. "He declared himself Fire Lord by right of conquest, brandishing his fathers' head at the gates of his palace. The Fire Nation rejoiced. They thought it was a time of prosperity. Fire Lord Zixin promised to be wise and just, to reduce the taxation and loosen the laws. He promised to release political prisoners and even spoke of setting up some sort of elected council to help him govern."

"But?"

"In reality, he was worse than his father." Zuko spoke heavily. "He was just as cruel, just as bloody. And instead of rewarding those who aided him, he had them executed for sedition. He imposed stricter laws and control, establishing a police force even more pervasive than today's Dai Li."

"So... He lied?" She frowned. "What did the citizens do? Did they rise against him, or what?"

"They couldn't." He said regretfully. "The slightest whisper of rebellion, and a man would watch his family slaughtered before his eyes and he was subjected to Lingchi. The amount of Fire Nation citizens that escaped to the Earth Kingdom was enormous... One of them is probably one of your distant ancestors."

"So then... What happened? How did he die?" She couldn't believe the story she had just been told, the acute level of violence and sadism. It made her more than a little sick.

"He died very old, very rich, and very, very powerful." Zuko murmured. "His grandson Wuzhou took the throne. He relaxed most of the laws, lowered taxes, and abolished the police force, but ever since, the Fire Lord has instilled that terror in the hearts of their citizens. They have always had that control over the people. For most, it's not loyalty and love for their country that drives them, it's fear."

"So, what's the moral of the story then?" She turned to him, her barely-educated mind struggling to analyze the idea of Zuko's anecdote.

"Rebellion brings change, Jin." Zuko murmured. "But it's not always for the best. Most of the time, it only brings in someone worse. Human nature... That's what's it stopping Ba Sing Se from becoming a Utopia. Oh, and my ancestors have always been sadistic bastards." He added bitterly, turning his head away.

"Well... If it's any consolation, you're the nicest boy from the Fire Nation I've ever met." She said warmly, looping an arm about his waist, nuzzling his shoulder lightly as they walked. He looked down in alarm, his face flushing bright red as they walked.

"I'm the _only _boy you've ever met from the Fire Nation, Jin." He contradicted her. But all the same, he couldn't help but notice the warm feeling rising in his chest.

"I'm sure you're still a cut above the rest." She smiled. "You're special."

"Uh, thanks." He frowned a little. "I think..."

"You're welcome." She lifted her head as they walked into the small courtyard, centred with a stone well. "This is the place."

"It is?" Zuko stared cautiously at the surrounding windows. They were mostly shops and business, he realised with a little surge of relief. Jin nodded.

"This well here leads straight to an underground lake. A river running into it leads us straight to the Crystal Catacombs." Jin pushed her sleeves up again, taking a quick look about the courtyard.

"We won't get wet, will we..." Zuko watched as the tunnel, big enough for two people to comfortably walk through began to burrow into the ground. He hated water as a rule, and freezing underground stream water was a really unattractive situation. Jin stopped, and turned around, an eyebrow raised.

"Glad to know you have faith in me." She took his arm. "Get in and bring up some light. I'll have to seal it behind us. A Dai Li is bound to come past and see it." Zuko nodded his palm crackling with fire.

"Talk about the belly of the beast..." He felt the earth tremble as Jin sealed off the entrance, protecting the little flame dancing in his hand. "You better not get us lost down here."

"I _won't."_ She reassured him. "I know how deep it goes down, and the direction to go in. You're not getting cold feet, I hope."

"Of course not." Zuko blinked, shaking off pangs of tiredness. Idly, he wondered how late it was.

"Good." She gripped his wrist, the one that wasn't controlling fire, and started to walk, her sweaty palm dampening his skin. "Zuko... When we get there, we won't know where to go."

"We'll be fine." He ignored her fear, despite the fact it had a similar gnawing face on his insides. "The layout can't be too different. Just concentrate on making a tunnel as fast and as quiet as you can, all right?"

"Uh-huh." She tried to ignore the rising panic in her heart. She'd never been submerged underground like this. Not this deep. And to know that she was facing an army of the Dai Li on the other side...

"Jin." Zuko's voice made her pause, and turn. In the light of the flame, her eyes looked like black pits in her face, the flickering shadow giving him the chilling impression of a skeleton.

"Yes?" She swallowed, her hand in Zuko's shaking. With a faint blush, she pulled it free, eyes lowered. "What is it."

"... Come here." Jin let out a little cry as the light was extinguished, her breath seizing in her throat as a pair of arms wound about her shoulders. Zuko felt more than a little nervous as he embraced her, an action he had not instigated in a long, long time. Jin buried her head in the crook of his neck, a balloon of intense panic threatening to burst in her throat. They were walking blind. They had no idea of where they were going to go, who would be there, what they were going to do... Under Lake Laogai, Zuko had a real advantage – he knew where everything was. Here, they were placing their very lives in the hands of Luck. "Don't worry, Jin."

"Why are you doing this?" She asked, her voice muffled by Zuko's clothing. "What do you have to gain from helping me? Why are you risking your life for someone you've never met before?"

"Jin..." With a sigh, Zuko took her shoulders, pulling her away so he talk to her, unable to see her in the pitch black. "I'm doing this because I care about you. Because your brother has been unjustly imprisoned for four long years and if I let that go on then I would be a damn rotten person. Because it's about time I started doing the right thing, and I guess this is a good place to start."

"... Really?" She was smiling, he could tell.

"Yes, really." It was so strange. Why was strong morality something that was so new to her? She had a good family, mainly wholesome, and her friends were apparently all right. What Zuko didn't realise was that she'd suffered the same patronization and disrespect from males for nearly two years, and as a result, had felt alienated and misinterpreted for a long time. The concept of someone else sharing similar ideals to her and actually respecting her as a person was foreign, and something she was not yet used to. _But then... She said she's killed. And apparently my sense of honour is somehow stronger than hers. I can see why she would be confused... She's had to work for everything she's ever gotten and still has next to nothing. I know how that feels. I really, really do..._

"Oh, Zuko." She breathed, and before the teenager had a chance to react, Jin's lips were against his. But this wasn't like the shy, tender kisses they had shared before. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her mouth open, Zuko very aware of the fact that they were close, so close he could feel every curve of her body, pressed so close to him. He was momentarily stunned, and stood as still and silent as the stone that entombed them, hands at his side. If she didn't know better, Jin would have been offended at such a still reaction. Instead, she pulled away with a gentle smile, although he couldn't see it in the dark, a little frustrated.

"We..." Zuko swallowed. "We should get going." He flattened his palm again, calling forth a small flame. He turned away, so she couldn't see the colour of his cheeks, which he judged to be an embarrassing shade of red from the raised temperature of his skin.

"Yes." Jin nodded, beginning to walk. "Nervous, Zuko?"

"Well..." Zuko thought for a moment. He had his swords. Jin actually proved to be a better bender than her bashful put-downs had suggested. Zuko was a master of stealth, and Jin had been sneaking around places for most of her life. And finally, he was going to do the right thing on his own. He didn't need his Uncle for this. It was his full first step in the right direction. He closed his eyes for a heartbeat, his lips still tingling frantically. How was it possible to still feel Jin against him, even though she was a couple of paces away?

"Not a bit." He said confidently, feeling, for the first time in several years, just a little bit proud of himself.

* * *

"You're still awake."

Katara's eyes snapped open in the dark, and she lifted her head a little, eyes slightly narrowed.

"How did you..."

"Know? The way you're breathing. It's not long enough to be sleep. That, and you're shuffling around a lot. But I don't blame you, metal's a damn hard surface to sleep on." He squinted at her in the dark, able to make out her figure with eyes, sharp as an owl after spending four years without a glimpse of any light brighter than a flickering candle.

"Oh..." She slowly sat up, drawing her knees to her chest. "Sorry... If I kept you up."

"It's all right." Meng shrugged. "I can't sleep either. Must have been everything you said about the Avatar and the Fire Nation Princess... You definitely set my brain racing there."

"It is scary." Katara agreed quietly. "I just wish I knew if there was something I could do... Some way to help."

"You don't need to." Meng spoke. "Katara, the Avatar is going to come for you, remember? You won't be down here for long before you get freed. You have nothing to worry about."

"I... Guess." She sounded uncertain though. "But... I hope he's not too late... Princess Azula was planning her coup for today. He's at the Eastern Air Temple... He can't help."

"You're starting to sound hopeless again." He remarked, stretching his legs out across the tiny cell. "Don't. It's depressing."

"Sorry." She stood up, however, hands balled into fists. "But I can't _do_ this! I can't just sit here! This is ridiculous." Katara grasped the thin bars that adorned the thick door. "_Why?_ Why now? Why us? How can the universe have a grudge against Aang like this?"

"Oh _don't_ go spiritual on me." Meng muttered, arching his neck a little, shoulders stiff. "I don't understand why people still insist on following them..."

"I believe what I see." Katara shot back. "I've seen spirits. Hei Bai for one. And Tui and La... And Yue... How can you think they don't exist?"

"I never said believing." He corrected her. "I said following. They're malevolent beings... They don't care about the world anymore."

"What?" She frowned. "How can you say something like that? Of course they do."

"Then why did they let things get this bad, if they had the power to stop it?" His voice sounded somewhat cool in the dark. "Why would they let the Fire Nation wipe out the Air Nomads? Why would they let them wage war for a century?"

"I-I..." Katara blinked, not knowing what to say. "I don't know... I never thought about it..."

"I get to do a lot of thinking." He murmured quietly in the dark. "It's one way of passing the time." Meng sighed. "Ignore me and my evil heretical thoughts." He laughed bitterly. "I have way too much time to sit here with nothing but my own head to keep me company. I'm not like I used to be. I know I'm not. My head's messed."

"You said you weren't insane."

"Oh, I'm not insane." Meng agreed with her. "Insane is when you scream for hours on end and then stay silent for days. Insane is where you throw your food about instead of eating it and do frankly disgusting things you don't want to know about. There's a difference between insane and not quite right. A big one."

"I guess, I-" Katara blinked as she heard a loud _clang_ at the end of the long passage. "What was that?"

"Just the door opening." Meng shrugged. "But... It's too early for breakfast... And they never come in the ni-"

"_Meng!"_ Her voice was shaking, fraught with both concern and hope. The two people in the cell remained very, very still. "_Meng!_ Are you in here?"

"Jin, keep your _voice_ down!" The second voice hissed, echoing down the corridor. Katara frowned, the cadence, the slight rasp so familiar...

"Meng?" Jin ignored Zuko as she ran desperately down the hall, pausing every few seconds to glimpse through the tiny excuses for windows. This was the last wing of prisoners, and, in extension, Jin's last hope. If he wasn't here, he wasn't anywhere. Around them, people began to wake in their cells, muttering with confusion. "Meng, where _are_ you?" He had to be here. He _had_ to! They had gone so far. First, the pair had to endure the painfully long trek to the Catacombs themselves, both of the teenagers aching with tiredness. If that wasn't bad enough, the infiltration, sneaking past rotating patrols of Dai Li agents, having to take some out silently – Zuko did it, usually managing to knock them out with a well-aimed punch or kick – getting lost, doubling back, and having to wander past what felt like hundreds of cells, peering into each one. It was exasperation, and desperation that drove Jin's noise. A desperate need for closure. _If he's not here..._

"Jin?" Meng's voice sounded oddly hoarse in the dark. Katara started, managing to make out the young mans' form as he pulled himself to his feet, stumbling. "Jin!" He took a few staggering steps, unable to function, so profound was his intense shock. He banged against the door loudly as he collapsed against it, the dull _thud_ of metal enough to catch his sisters' attention. With a cry, Jin propelled herself to the door, Zuko hot on her heels, casting an anxious look behind them. Meng caught a glimpse of her eyes, filled with tears, half-curtained in thick dark hair, before she bowed her head, trying to open the door.

Jin was crying as she drew the heavy lock, hands shaking. With doors so thick, the Dai Li didn't waste time with keys. It wasn't as though anyone could slide the deadbolt free from inside, and there were far too many rooms to keep individual keys for. She pulled the heavy door, supporting Meng, open, the male collapsing into her open arms. Jin reeled back, but managed to keep on her feet, realising with a pang that her brother was painfully light, probably weighing less than her. She embraced him with a near rib-cracking force, not caring that he smelled_ really_ bad, or that she was cutting off his air supply. Neither could speak, because they were both too shocked to speak, and because any words at that moment would be rendered as a clumsy, unneeded verbal translation of mental euphoria.

Katara, on the other hand, was more practical. Collecting herself, she squeezed past the embracing siblings in the doorway, her mind squarely focused on getting out, running away, and, unfortunately, hiding. Yes, it seemed cowardly, but without Aang, what could she do? She was sometimes irrational, but still, she wasn't stupid. And she knew that taking on Azula and her female lackeys alone was far from a clever idea. What Katara needed to do was find Toph, and get to her brother in Chameleon Bay...

Zuko froze as Katara stood in the hallway, his limbs fraught with the odd sensation of being carved from ice. It was, literally, the very last person that Zuko had expected to see underneath the Earth King's palace. She looked tired, peaky and strained.

"You!" They spoke in unison, eyes widened with shock, hearts thudding. Katara's features quickly twisted into an expression of intense loathing. Zuko took a slow step backwards, having no idea about what to say or do, or even think. _Why? Why is she here? Why does she have to be here? I was so close..._

"What are you _doing _here!" She demanded, eyes narrowed. Zuko swallowed, mouth opening, but no words forming. He didn't know what to say. He was lost for words. "_Answer _me!" She snapped, nerves stretched to breaking point.

"I-I came here with Jin..." He stuttered weakly, gesturing to the girl. "Katara... Wh-why are you down here?"

"Why? _Why?"_ She was shocked beyond comprehension to see Zuko, her disbelief having a detrimental effect on her judgement. "Your _sister!_" Zuko's heart stopped. "She kidnapped me and had me imprisoned here!"

"No-"

"Oh, _don't_ try and feign innocence, Zuko." She spat. "Like you're not here to get information out of me about Aang! Like you're not in this! I bet you're _so _happy that you're little plan is working!"

"What are you-"

"How can you _live_ with yourself!" Jin finally pulled herself free from her brother, staring at Katara with wide eyes. "You're a monster, Zuko! All you want is to destroy the last hope we have! You and Azula, you're just the same!" Zuko stared at her evenly, jaw tense, hands clenched into shaking fists. "I'm not telling you _anything_ about Aang, Zuko!"

"I-I'm not-"

"You two must be _so_ proud of yourselves! Taking control of the Dai Li, planning this coup, trapping Aang!" Zuko's heart leapt in his throat. "You're sick, you know that?"

"What... What is Azula doing?" The look of genuine shock on Zuko's face made Katara pause. "A coup?"

"You... You really don't know..." Katara's eyes widened.

"No!" Zuko panicked, Jin's mouth dry. "I had no idea! I... Oh _Agni_... You can't mean..."

"Then... Why are you here?" She pressed. "You weren't wandering around here for no reason, were you?"

"No, we weren't." Jin disentangled herself from her brother, fielding the question for Zuko, who was too stunned for speech. The silent teenager doubled over, a hand on the wall. "Meng is my older brother... Zuko and I came down here to rescue him."

"And who are _you?" _ She turned to the girl, frowning. Jin merely raised an eye at Katara's rudeness. _No wonder Zuko wasn't happy to talk about this girl..._

"I'm Jin, Zuko's girlfriend." She explained patiently, still trying to get her head around everything. "Zuko's been in Ba Sing Se for a few weeks. And trust me, he hasn't done anything wrong." She eyed the black-haired teenager, a little worried. He stood silently, obviously trying to comprehend everything.

"Ha! That's what you think-"

"That's what I _know."_ Jin cut over Katara. "Look, please, you have to understand, Zuko isn't here for any evil purpose. He has no part in anything Azula is plotting. He hasn't hurt anyone since he came to Ba Sing Se. He's done wrong, but he's a good person now."

"If you knew everything-"

"I do." Jin said simply. "I know you hate Zuko. And you have every right to. And I understand that's not going to change. But don't accuse of something he hasn't done."

"... I'm sorry then." Katara muttered stiffly, arms crossed. "I shouldn't have said you were working with Azula, Zuko."

"She wants me either dead or in jail." His voice was hoarse. "She'd never work with me." Jin stepped forward, taking his hand. She realised with pang that he was trembling, palm cold and clammy.

"We should go." Jin said gently, trying hard to keep herself together. "The Dai Li no doubt heard something... They'll be here soon and I don't wanna get caught." She turned back to Katara. "What are you going to do?"

"... I don't know." Katara rubbed at shadowed eyes. Truth was, she felt a real pang of guilt at Zuko's hoarse declaration that Azula had only malicious intent for him. She guessed that it was hard to think of someone like him as having such emotions. "Find Toph. And sort this mess out."

"Don't do anything stupid." Zuko spoke up, earning a glare from the blue-clad girl

"Why? What were_ you_ going to do?" She accused, anger flaring afresh. Katara couldn't help herself. It was too hard, to change her mindset so drastically in the space of a few short minutes.

"Talk to my Uncle." Zuko's voice still sounded faraway, his eyes slightly out of focus. "Ask for his advice." Katara paused. Realistically, that was a very smart thing to do. If anyone knew what to do in such a situation, it would most definitely be General Iroh.

"Let's just focus on getting out of here." Jin said quickly, giving her brother a small smile. "Everyone. Together. It's the quickest and fastest way." Katara narrowed her eyes at Zuko, mistrust and anger still burning, but eventually nodded.

"All right." Zuko mumbled eventually, rattled. And no wonder. To learn that his sister, who felt nothing but hate and contempt for him, was on the brink of overtaking the city, her _home_... Jin couldn't begin to decipher the turbulent emotions she guessed he was feeling.

"Good." Jin squeezed his hand comfortingly. Katara stared at Zuko for a few moments, and looked at the ground, her sense of guilt slowly increasing. She'd funnelled the rage and hate she felt for Azula and her cronies to Zuko, which was unfair, and she knew it. But she was hardly going to say sorry. And to be honest, she felt that she had every right to say what she had, after everything that he had put her through.

"Let's just go." She said roughly, beginning to walk, sinking into a pool of thought. Katara also felt more than a little outraged. Did Zuko really think it could be that easy? Was he stupid enough to think that if he just said sorry and he was now a good person, that she would immediately forgive him? Besides, he had given no indication that he needed, or wanted, her acceptance or approval. And she sure as hell wasn't intending on giving it to him so freely, despite what his so-called 'girlfriend' proclaimed.

The fact that when she thought of Prince Zuko, arrogant, short-tempered and proud, hardened with resolve, and compared him with the overcome teenager, humbled and bare-headed, eyes fixed on the floor, who clung to Jin almost for dear life, and found not even the barest similarity between the two, meant nothing at all to her.

_Right?

* * *

_

Teehee.

When I first wrote the last scene, it came off a TEENSY bit Zutarian. I lol'd. Hard. But... No. We cannot have that, kiddies.

I thought that I had finished this a couple of days ago, but then I felt REALLY bad for leaving short (it was about seven thousand words) So I added extra stuffs for you all. Woop.

By the way, I has a poll. It's just something I thought I should try and gather a bit of a consensus on. So go and vote for meh :3

R&R Peoples!


	15. Chapter 15

Eek...

This is SO incredibly late... I feel stink as about it, don't worry, it won't happen again (Until my finals haha)

But still, you guys should totally check out my oneshot that only got three reviews hahahaha. Yes, that was shameless self-advertising. No, I don't care.

Disclaimer: I own nothing here. Poops.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, Zuko was overcome with the very real sensation that he might collapse to his knees and throw up.

He kept a stable facade, face as stiff and white as marble, a weakly crackling flame flickering in his hand, which refused to give way to trembling. Inside, however, was intense turbulence. There were three things that he was sure of. One, Katara hated him. She had fallen silent after her explosion towards the teenager, but he certainly noticed the hefty number of absolutely poisonous glances that were thrown his way as they walked, worming their way through a thick crust of rock. She despised every aspect of him, and it didn't look as though it were going to change any time soon.

Two, her sister was here. That was enough to send a shiver of fear down his back. He was terrified of her. He always had been, really, although his feelings, hovering close to the surface during his childhood, were never fully realised. Another emotion welled up in his chest at her mental image, too. Hate. This was fresh. He'd disliked her, feared her, but hadn't hated her. That, of course changed after she hit Iroh with lightning in a successful attempt to escape. His rage towards Azula burned afresh as he recalled the painful memory. He would get revenge for this. Even though she aimed to incapacitate, not kill, it didn't subside Zuko's blind fury in the slightest. He was bent towards punishing her for what she had done. But as he thought of doing so, the fear swirled in his chest again, a wave of sickening terror. He wanted to punish her, but was frightened of her at the same time. _Damn._

Three, and most importantly, Ba Sing Se was on the edge of collapse. The Dai Li had control of the city, and Azula had control of the Dai Li. Aang was too far away to help, and he had no other possible allies to call on. If Ba Sing Se were to fall, his father would have essentially won the war. There would be no real enemy for him to face. Zuko couldn't let that happen. It wasn't a simple matter of being on the 'good side'. To Zuko, those words were empty and hollow. He didn't really like the label of being a 'good guy'. What drove him was a strong desire to follow what he thought was right. True, his moral compass had been a more than a little off-course in the past, but Zuko had convinced himself that he couldn't let this pass. He had all intention of remaining neutral, no matter what happened. He felt it was the only option, with his loyalty between the Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation so deeply divided. But a coup, overturning the authority of Ba Sing Se, benefitted nobody but the Fire Lord himself. The people of the Fire Nation, the middling and lower classes, who he now felt a great compassion and affinity for after his period of forced poverty, wouldn't feel any positive economic effects from this. Any money that was to be made would go straight into his fathers' pockets.

He'd formed a plan in his exhausted mind, one that he hoped would work out, and solve most of his problems. He would go Iroh, of course, and ask the elderly General for his very valuable advice. After all, for all of his military and political experience, surely he knew of a successful way to stop Azula's coup before it was too late. He was going to have to persuade Katara to join him. That part, he didn't like. But, unfortunately, he couldn't see any other option. She was an excellent fighter, he'd seen her drastic improvement, but more importantly, he really didn't want her running around, a loose cannon. If she was caught, or found, they would know she escaped. Azula would know something was up, and they would lose the crucial element of surprise. Of course, therein laid the problem: convincing someone that reviled him that it was in her best interest to join his side.

"What do you think the time is?" Jin spoke up over the nearly consistent rumbling of the earth. They walked in single file, Jin in the front, tunnelling a way forward, Zuko behind her, holding a handful of fire to illuminate the claustrophobic space, Katara behind him, watching every move he made with intense mistrust, and Meng at the rear, sealing the space behind them, while forcing back light-headedness and exhaustion.

"Who knows." Zuko mumbled. "We've been walking for a while... I'd say it's at least dawn."

"Great." She yawned loudly. "You know Meng, you're really lucky that it's my day off. Mrs. Chan would have fired me if I showed up in this state."

"Do you _still_ work in that laundry?" He inquired, an eyebrow raised.

"Yes." Jin shot back defensively. "Finding another job is tough, all right? And at least there, I only work 'til noon."

"Yeah, but I'm sure you can do better. Work for Lifen or Uncle Renshu or something?" Jin only rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, because Ma would really let me. You know how she hates getting charity." She sighed and shrugged. "Oh well. She's going to be really happy to see you, you know."

"Ma?" Meng's face tightened a little "So she's not mad at me?"

"She was never mad at you, dope." The girl rolled her eyes. "Besides, you're twenty years old now. Even if she was mad, what is she going to do, ground you?"

"I don't know, she's pretty strict... You and Jiro must get a bit now."_ Four years_. He felt a little sick. How was he going to be able to cope? Four years of his life, the crucial four years where one transformed, from a boy to a man, were gone, spent trapped alone and miserable in an underground cell. How was he going to be able to go on? How could he go from a prisoner to a normal person? It was impossible. He was _never_ going to be the same. And the thought of that made his stomach churn, a sick wave of nausea rising in his chest. He hated them. He hated the Dai Li more than he could ever articulate, and he knew it was going to be hard, seeing them in the street, lurking in the shadows, hundreds of pairs of ever-watchful eyes, knowing that he would be totally powerless against them. It would only be a matter of time before the disaster which occurred four years ago would repeat itself, Meng knew.

"Yeah..." Jin winced. _At least when I get home I won't be in trouble. Ma will be so happy to see him, she won't even remember I ran off and stayed out all night. I hope..._ "We're close." She reported. "Just a little more and we're..." The thin shell of rock crumbled, the flame in Zuko's hand extinguishing as the tiny cavern filled with a pale, wan light.

"Thank goodness." Jin stepped into the light. It was a side alley, thankfully, not exactly where they had gone in, but close enough. And better yet, she knew where she was. With a yawn and a stretch, she leaned against the side of a house, watching silently as the other three emerged from the darkness into the fresh, early-morning air.

"It's always strange to go outside and find that it's morning." Zuko remarked, rubbing at the back of his neck. "What a night."

"Thank you Jin and Meng." Katara said shortly, pointedly, ignoring the young Prince. "I owe you two a lot for this."

"Where do you think you're going?" Zuko frowned as Katara began to walk away, the tribal girl freezing.

"Excuse me?" She turned around, eyes flashing. "Why is it any of your business?" Zuko winced, realising that his tone was too harsh, and accusing.

"That came out wrong." He explained carefully. "I just meant that it's perhaps not a very good idea to go off by yourself. If the Dai Li see you, they'll know something's up. You'll just wind up in jail and Azula will tighten her plans even further."

"Well, what do you think I should do then?" Damn, he was right again. She crossed her arms as she waited for a reply, eyes narrowed. Try as she might, Katara hadn't been able to get Zuko out of her head while she walked. Her sense of mistrust hadn't lessened. The wounds were too deep, too fresh for her to think of Zuko in any other light. Sure, he was against Azula, but just because they shared a common enemy, it hardly made then allies. And just because he was doing something good (for what she thought was the first time ever) it hardly made him a good person. Besides, this Jin girl probably pushed him into it.

"Come with me to see my Uncle." Zuko pleaded. "Tell him everything. He'll know what to do, Katara. Think about it. Without everyone else, you don't have a chance, not if Azula has the Dai Li behind her. Look, I'm not saying we should become best buddies. I hardly want that myself. But we're the only hope Ba Sing Se has. Isn't that worth setting enmity aside for, just for one day?"

"Zuko, why do you even _care _about Ba Sing Se?" She demanded, angry that he was making so much sense. "You've _never_ cared about anyone but yourself!"

"I know." He sounded regretful. "That was wrong of me. Look, Katara... Thing's.... They're different now. I don't want Aang. I swear. Even if I gave his head to my father on a silver platter, I don't think I could avoid execution. I want to do the right thing. I do. I want to protect and defend the people who are most important to me. Tolerating one another, co-operation and working together, it's the only thing that's going to save this city. Isn't that what you want?"

"Of _course_ I want Ba Sing Se to remain safe!" Katara shot back. "And I bet I want it more than you!"

"I live here." He reminded the girl. "I'm not going to leave any time soon. I have a life here. Friends. I'm happier than I've been in years. I'll do anything I can to make sure Ba Sing Se is safe, Katara." Jin, whose eyes were slowly starting to close, snapped open.

"Oh, I'm _sure._" Jin gritted her teeth. _What is her damn problem?_

"I'm _serious."_ He was getting frustrated, voice tightening. "Why aren't you listening to me?"

"Do you honestly think that I can trust you? After everything you have done to us? Do you think I'll ever believe anything you'll say?"

"I never lied to you." Zuko was being purely honest as he stood a few feet opposite from her, hands at his sides.

"Oh, just because you-"

"Do you know who released your bison from under Lake Laogai?" Zuko cut over the girl. Katara froze.

"You mean... It was you?"

"Yes." Jin stepped forward, laying a hand on Zuko's arm. He was obviously on edge, his discomfort becoming infectious. "It was me. What, do you think he just magically escaped?"

"Well, no but..." Katara trailed off, eyes lowering. "Wh... Why?"

"Because I wanted to do the right thing." All right, so that was a _slight_ stretch of the truth, but she didn't need to know that. Zuko was desperate to get Katara on her side, conscious of the precious seconds that ticked past. "Katara... I... I was a real jerk. I know I was. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all the hurt I've caused. You have... no idea how guilty I feel about it." Jin squeezed his arm sympathetically. "Please, come with me and see my Uncle."

"... It doesn't make us friends." She muttered after a few moments of deep consideration.

"Of course it doesn't." To be honest, Zuko wasn't exactly jumping at the opportunity to be best buddies with her either. "Come on. We have to get going. We've wasted enough time already."

"Of course." Jin stepped forward, her hand resting on her brothers shoulder. "Meng? Come on, we're moving." She bit her lip as she saw that he was stood silent, eyes closed. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He murmured after a second of silence. "It's just nice... Fresh air... A breeze... You have no idea how much you miss just being outdoors until you're locked away from it for so long..." Meng opened his eyes, looked over at his sister, giving a weak smile. "Just the stupid little things..."

"Yeah. I know." She took his wrist, turning back to the previously squabbling pair. "All right. So, the quickest way from here is if we head north-west and get to the-"

"What?" Zuko was startled. "We? Jin, what are you talking about?"

"What are _you _talking about?" She frowned. "What, did you think we weren't coming?"

"Jin, this is dangerous." He protested. "You can't... What if you get hurt?"

"Zuko, I'm insulted." Her expression hardened. "This is _my _city on the line here. I grew up on these streets. Sure, it's not the greatest place in the world, but it's home. It's been home for my entire life. My family live here, and all of my friends. I would do anything to protect them. Do you honestly think I'm just going to go home and pretend that nothing has happened? That this whole night never existed?"

"Jin, I don't want you to get hurt." He argued. She was so _stubborn._ "I-I don't know what I'd do." Zuko looked at the ground intently, refusing to look at anyone else.

"That's so sweet." She sighed. Katara crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. "But no. Okay. Meng, you're welcome to go home. You're dead on your feet, and I know you miss Ma and the others like crazy."

"Yeah. And let my baby sister walk into a pit of vipers." He shook his head. "Besides, do any of you know how to get into the palace?"

"I've been there lots." Katara argued.

"Let me rephrase that then. Do you know how to get into the palace without the Dai Li knowing?"

"_What?"_ Jin gasped. "You can get into the _palace?_ Who told you? When? And why didn't you tell me?"

"Dai Shi's elder brother, nearly five years ago, and because you would only tell Jiro and he'd wind up arrested." He rubbed at his aching neck. "I've never actually been in, but I know it exists. And I _kind of_ remember where it is."

"Kind of?" Zuko winced a little. "We can't rely on 'kind of' here."

"I'm pretty sure I know where it is." Meng defended himself. "Trust me on this."

"We've got nothing else to go on." Katara rather liked this odd young man, who at least tried to keep her optimism up during the night. "Let's just go."

"We gotta keep to the back streets." Jin peered down the narrow side-alley. "This part of town is particularly notorious, it's always crawling with Dai Li, trying to crack down on street violence." She began to walk, her heart thudding with anticipation, hands trembling with nerves. It was almost impossible to believe that his was happening. Talk to going to the _palace_, saving the city, it was incomprehensible to her. _I knew dating Zuko was going to be an adventure, but..._

"Can you still use the Underground route, or was that blocked up?" Meng asked his sister, trying so hard to quell the violent shaking of his limbs. _Calm down... _

"Blocked two years ago." Jin sighed. "A few people went missing over that... We think that they were caught en route to the Upper Ring... Did you hear anything about that in... You know..."

"Jin, I _killed _a Dai Li agent. They locked me up in solitary. The only person I ever saw was the agent that brought me food." Meng didn't look at anyone, eyes locked on his trembling hands.

"It's such a Labyrinth down there." Katara shook her head. "So much care and labour taken to create that prison..."

"I've seen worse." Zuko spoke up softly. "When I was eleven, my father took me to see..." He trailed off, staring at Katara. _I can't tell her. _

"What?" She demanded quickly. "To see what? Some kind of torture chamber?"

"... Where they used to kept the water benders." Jins fingers bound about his, clenching tightly against his skin. Katara froze.

"Used to..." She swallowed. "So... They're all..."

"I'm sorry." Zuko said honestly, wishing he'd never mentioned the prison. "Really, Katara, I'm-"

"Whatever." She turned away abruptly, crossing her arms. "Let's just go. We're wasting time." Katara walked briskly, purposefully looking away, so no one could see the tears in her eyes. She had hoped, even when she was a little girl, before the last raid that took her mother from her, that they might still be alive. Although it wasn't spoken in earshot of children, Katara had heard her parents, several nights, while they were sleeping. Her great-grandfather Amaguk had been taken, just six years after her grandfather had been born, and Hakoda sometimes wondered if his great-grandfather was somehow still alive, being moderately young when he was taken. But too much time had passed. Even Hama, who had been spoken of as the last to be taken, would have passed on by now. Even so, Katara carried a seed of hope, and on some sleepless nights, indulged herself in ridiculous fantasies, of somehow finding and rescuing the trapped people of her tribe. Although she respected and admired Pakku greatly, and was eternally grateful to receive his teaching, he was still not one of her people. The traditions and customs between the tribes were too different. Katara knew that the Southern water benders would have had their own distinct style and technique, which was carried on only in the minds of the benders themselves. She hoped even, one day, that when Aang won the war, they could be freed, and maybe they could even teach her, old as they would have been. But they were all, truly, dead. The cells were empty, and would have fallen into disuse. Azula had spoken of such a thing, but of course, Katara didn't trust her, thinking – _hoping_ – that she was lying, just wanting to cause pain for Katara. But she had been telling the truth...

_They're gone... I really __**am**__ the last water bender of the Southern Tribes..._

Despite the fact that three people walked with her, that the sounds of the awakening city began to fill the early morning air, in that moment, Katara felt lonelier, more isolated than she ever had in her young life.

* * *

"Azula! There you are."

Ty Lee stilled in the doorway, eyes widening a little. She had been wandering about, trying to find Azula, who sat on the carved stool before the vanity, staring rather blankly at her own reflection. Her hair trailed down her back, unbound, the simple green headdress on the wooden surface of the vanity.

"What's wrong?" She approached the young Princess somewhat cautiously, frowning a little in concern. Azula's face flickered, but gave no other indication that she recognized her presence. "A-Azula...?" Seconds dragged.

"Did you know that Zuko is formally still next in line for the throne?" Azula spoke up suddenly, still gazing at her own reflection. Ty Lee blinked.

"Really?" She was a little confused. "Even after everything that's happened?"

"Even after everything that's happened." Azula agreed. "There's no chance of redemption. Uncle has gotten to him. Even if he brought the Avatar back to Father in chains, he would probably still order Zuko's execution. The fact that my brother has somehow retained his birthright seems ridiculous, no?"

"Well, yeah, it does." Ty Lee agreed with that, even if she struggled to understand exactly what he had done to warrant death. There must have been something that Azula had kept secret from her and Mai...

"Do you know why Father has done this?"

"No?" Ty Lee froze when she saw that Azula's hands, clenched in her lap, were shaking. "A-Azula? Are you all right?"

"It has been twelve hundred years since a woman has ruled the Fire Nation." Azula murmured, still gazing at her own reflection. Ty Lee walked slowly up to the Princess, standing behind her. "They always exercise every possible alternative before giving the throne to a woman."

"You don't need to worry about that!" Ty Lee plastered a smile on her face. "Fire Lord Ozai is proud of you Azula. And he should! I mean, gosh... Look at what you've done."

"Exactly." Azula's expression darkened. "Look at what I've done. For the past few months, I've failed. Father set me a task, and I have yet to fulfil it."

"But you will!" Ty Lee rested a hand on Azula's shoulder, feeling her tense. "Your plan is excellent, Azula, there's no way anything can go wrong!" Despite her smiling facade, however, Ty Lee was rattled. She had never seen Azula react in this way before, never seen her so... insecure.

"I know that, of course." Azula lifted her head a little, back straightening. "There is no questioning this." She still looked thoughtful, a little... anxious. In an attempt to calm her, Ty took the comb from the vanity surface, beginning to work the slim teeth through the Princess' hair.

"That's not what's really bothering you, is it?" Ty Lee gently tried to push Azula into revealing what was hurting her. "Azula... What's wrong?"

"Nothing is _wrong._" Azula said shortly, eyes slowly sliding from her reflection and onto the polished wood. After a moment, she sighed. It was futile, trying to hide everything from Ty Lee. "I just have a lot on my mind, Ty Lee."

"Oh..." She continued to run the comb through silken hair. "Do... You want to talk about it?"

"... No." Azula spoke firmly, but Ty Lee noticed that it took her a considerable amount of time before she spoke up. "I'll be fine, Ty Lee."

"All right." The acrobatic young girl took the headdress from the table, beginning to wind Azula's glossy dark hair about the green-and-black metal. "But... I'm here if you need me, Azula." Ty Lee smiled at the young Princess in the mirror. "I'll never abandon you."

"... I know." Azula swallowed, watching as Ty Lee continued to bind her hair. The nobleman's daughter worked silently, fastening the headpiece to Azula's hair with long, sharp hairpins. When she had finished, the girl stood back with a small smile. "Thank you, Ty Lee." Azula inclined her head slightly in a nod.

"Any time, Azula." Ty Lee's smile grew.

Azula turned away, back to the large round window, hand clenched behind her back. She looked away from her friend, purposefully, so Ty Lee couldn't see the minute quiver of her bottom lip.

_Everything has been planned._ She mused. _The tiniest factor has been mentally analysed. There is nothing that can possibly go wrong._

Then why did she have such an unusual sensation of unease in the pit of her stomach?

* * *

_I should go to work._

Iroh lifted himself up from the low table with a groan, hands behind his back as he turned to stare out of the large window. True, he should have left at least half an hour ago, but the elderly man just couldn't bring himself to leave the apartment. His mind was torturing him, with images of his nephew, who never came home last night. _Hopefully_ (and he knew it was perhaps not a very good thing to wish for), he had spent the night with Jin, and hadn't had a nasty run in with the Dai Li or a group of thugs. It was really entirely unlike him to not come home at all like this. Iroh had passed a restless night, keeping an ear open for both Zuko's return and an unwelcome visit from the Dai Li. He finally pulled himself out of bed, and after several cups of tea, was able to calm his increasingly strained nerves, at least in part. Inwardly, he knew he was overacting, just a little, despite the situation. It just seemed so strikingly _normal_ for a boy of sixteen to go on a date with a girl and not come home that night. Perhaps that was why he struggled to associate such a situation with his nephew. Sure, he was a whole different person in comparison to the angry young Prince he travelled with just last year, but he was still a far cry from a socially fluent, well-adjusted young man... like his own son, when he was the same age...

Iroh put the thought in the back of his mind as he bent down to collect his tea cup and kettle. They were set on the counter beside the sink, and with a long sigh, he turned towards the door. He really couldn't put it off any longer. If he kept procrastinating, he would then have to explain to his new employee's as to why he was late, and that had the opportunity to turn into a somewhat delicate situation. Stepping into his shoes, Iroh pulled the door open. What he saw when he did so, however, made him freeze.

"Zuko!" The breath was literally knocked out of the boys lungs as his uncle embraced him with a crushing force. Jin hid a small smile as Zuko endured the bear-like embrace, before Iroh pulled apart, blinking rapidly. "I was so _worried."_

"Let's just get inside." Zuko gently pushed the elderly man back through the doorway, nodding lightly to the other three. They filed through, Meng peering anxiously up and down the street before closing the door, sliding the bolt home.

"Katara?" Iroh noticed with a start. "What... What's going on?"

"I-I don't know where to begin." She sank on her knees at the low table, staring at the tabletop. "It... So much has happened."

"Azula." Zuko said bluntly. Iroh froze. "She's taken charge of the Dai Li, and is planning a coup. Aang is too far away to help."

"Well..." Iroh murmured slowly, carefully. He stared at the four, his nephew, Jin, Katara, and a strange young man he'd never seen before.

"What the hell do we do." Zuko's voice was shaking slightly. "We can't sit back and let this happen, but there's no way we can stop her!"

"He's right." Katara's head was in her hands. "What do we do, General Iroh? How can we stop this from happening?"

"Ah." He nodded. "All right. I know just what to do." Four hearts lifted, and four brows furrowed in confusion as Iroh turned to his stove, stoking the flames.

"Uncle... What are you doing?" Zuko demanded as the retired General busied himself with a kettle. "Are... _Are you making tea?"_

"Yes, my nephew." Iroh spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. Zuko let out a cry, and stood up, incensed.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" The teenager fumed. "Ba Sing Se is about to fall! Azula is about to win! And you want us to sit here and drink _tea?"_

"Zuko, sit down." Iroh turned, his voice and features hard and sharp. Jaw tight, he did so, Jin's hand on his shoulder doing nothing to alleviate his tremors. "I have no intentions of allowing any of you to storm the Palace in this state."

"What state?" Jin asked with a frown, as Iroh opened a cupboard, looking for something quick and easy he could fix for them.

"Well," He turned back to regard the youngsters. "It's a little obvious Jin, that the four of you have been up all night, under immense stress." Iroh set the steaming teapot down on the low table, along with five cups. "Pour yourself some." He offered. "Ginkgo tea is excellent for improving focus and concentration." An eyebrow raised, Jin did as the elderly man instructed, raising the golden-rimmed up to her lips. "Now my nephew, are you going to tell me what on earth you were doing to run into this situation?" Iroh rifled around for the largest butchers' knife, a side of salted meat wrapped in cloth resting on the counter. "I thought you two were just going on a date."

"W-We were." Zuko accepted the cup that Jin had poured for him, looking into the amber-coloured water. Despite herself, Katara's lips twitched in the barest suggestion of a smile. Prince Zuko? on a date? It was laughable. "But then... we kind of went to break Jins' elder brother Meng out of jail." The twenty year old gave a small wave, draining the last of his tea, the first drink that wasn't smelly, somewhat stagnant water, he'd had to drink in four years, with a sigh of satisfaction.

"Oh?" Iroh pulled out a large loaf of bread from the cupboard, still good, which he started to slice. He smiled, knowing already the answer to the next question, but asking it anyway. For vanities sake, maybe, to make his heart lift a little. "Why?"

"Because. Why not?" Katara watched Zuko intently, frowning slightly. "It would be a wrong of me to _not_ do anything about it, when I was perfectly capable of it."

_Since when did you care about right and wrong!_ Katara screamed at the teenager in her mind, infuriated. _No one _could undergo such a metamorphosis so quickly, it wasn't possible! Katara, however, wasn't around to see what Jin, and particularly Iroh saw, the moral corner he had backed himself into, the stress and tension and angst he had forced upon himself. What she had to notice, however, was that he didn't speak with pride, or self-indulgence. He kept his eyes lowered at his tea, almost as though he were ashamed of what he had done.

"So how did you two run into Katara then?" Iroh's voice sounded calm, and in control, but in reality, his mind was going at full tick, trying so hard to comprehend the information which had just been dumped on him.

"I was in his cell." Katara explained shortly. Iroh frowned.

"Hmmm..."

"What?" Zuko looked up at his Uncle as he set the laden plate of food down. It was just bread and meat, simple sandwiches, but it didn't stop Jin and Meng digging in as though it was their last meal. Iroh was still frowning, looking very far away. "What is it?"

"Oh... nothing." He eventually said evasively, settling down at the table beside his nephew. "Just thinking... That was a very wonderful piece of luck, wasn't it? All of the hundreds of cells, the nearly infinite possibilities." Zuko paused, the simple sandwich halfway to his mouth.

"What are you saying?" He narrowed his eyes slightly. There was an edge to his voice, a strong undercurrent of anger. Iroh mentally cringed, wanting to hit himself for his apparent bluntness. He was trying to be as subtle as possible, knowing of Zuko's jaded outlook on fate and destiny. But Iroh himself was a deeply spiritual man, and refused to believe that the meeting between the four was simply chance, or good luck. He himself put it down to divine intervention, the spirits working to bring the four together, but didn't dare to voice his opinion, unsure of how it would be taken.

"Nothing." Iroh said quickly, busying himself with his cup of tea. Zuko continued to regard him suspiciously, somewhat aware of what the elderly man had been hinting at. "Nothing, my nephew." Iroh repeated, forcing a smile.

"Well, it's not _that_ much of an amazing feat." Meng spoke up, swallowing his mouthful of food. "I was still locked in a solitary cell, where most were in pairs or threes. Guess they didn't have many places to shove you into, Katara."

"I... Guess." Katara shook her head. "Look, we're wasting time here." She turned to the elderly man, biting her lip. "General Iroh... What do we do? Is there anything we even _can_ do?"

"Of course there are things we can do." Iroh sipped his tea thoughtfully. "The most important thing is to get Azula under control, and the Earth King to safety. Without Azula at the helm, the Dai Li will find themselves without a leader, and without guidance. Cut off the head, and the body will follow."

"But... Without Azula, the Dai Li will just go back to obeying Long Feng." Katara argued. "From what I gathered, they've been following _him _all along, she's just controlling them for the coup."

"Oh, don't worry about Long Feng." Iroh waved his hand dismissively. "From the stories I've heard, he's nothing I can't handle. You think I haven't dealt with one of his types before?" He smiled, the lines around his eyes creasing. Zuko blinked, remembering once more that his Uncle was actually an elderly man. He looked down at his half-eaten sandwich, stomach churning uncomfortably. It was an agonizing thought, the idea that one day, Iroh wouldn't be there for him. Zuko tried to console himself in the knowledge that Royalty in the Fire Nation had a tendency to live for_ ages_ (Sozin, after all, was over a hundred and fifty when he died), but it was hardly enough to dispel the strong sense of discomfort. Even though it was a long time away, the thought of life without his Uncle was enough to send his heart racing in panic. Zuko took a sip of his tea, staring at the retired General.

"He's frightening." Meng said quietly, staring at the remains of his tea. Jin paused, the sandwich halfway to her mouth, then turned to look at him.

"Y-You... _met_ him?" Katara blinked. "He is a real fright, isn't he?"

"It was only for a moment. I was dragged before him a few days after I was arrested. I was one of many in the chamber. The agent said I murdered one of their own, and asked if he wanted to get rid of me. Long Feng said I was merely a child, and told them to lock me up. Then I was waved away. That was the closest I ever got to any sort of trial." Meng murmured softly, eyes very far away. Iroh frowned deeply.

"But... He's not _all_ bad, then." Jin ventured softly. "I mean, he could have had you killed... Isn't that what happens to the few who actually kill a Dai Li Agent?"

"It's one of the very few things that warrant death." Meng sighed. "But you have to understand... A life sentence at sixteen hardly sounds more attractive."

"Yeah, but it wasn't a life sentence, in the end." Jin squeezed her brothers' shoulder. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, saying nothing. "Meng?"

"I-I know Jin." He eventually murmured, forcing a smile. The others, especially Iroh, understood what Jin didn't. That some things stuck, forever, and to think that he would be ever completely okay again was foolish naivety. It would affect him deeply for the rest of his life, and in that sense, he was just as condemned in freedom as he was in prison.

"I think we need to focus on two main missions." Iroh spoke up after a few moments of contemplative silence. "What matters most is getting the Earth King out to safety, and containing Azula. The Earth King isn't safe under the eyes of the Dai Li, and if Azula does succeed, he'll become a prisoner and would probably face execution." It was the number one rule of conquest; kill the dethroned monarch, and all his heirs, lest you want any competition for your newly acquired dominion. "Does he have any children?"

"No." Katara shook her head. "He's not married yet. I think he's betrothed though..." Iroh nodded.

"That's good." He spoke with an utterly flawless air of composure and serenity, soothing the frazzled nerves of the younger four. "Smuggling him out of the castle will be simple."

"Um, maybe not." Katara winced. "He's a bit... Sheltered, if you understand me. He'd never left the palace until we got here. I don't really see him sneaking out of his own castle and going into hiding."

"Oh, he'll do as he is told." Iroh said mildly, draining the last of his second cup of tea. "He knows you rather well, I'm sure you can talk him into it."

"I... Guess." Katara bit her lip, mind still whirling. It was still so hard to understand all of this. _It's insane..._

"What about Azula." Zuko interjected firmly. "We can't just walk in there."

"No, we can't." Iroh looked thoughtful. "An ambush may be the best idea. It's easy enough to get information out of a palace guard if need be. It's a three-on-one situation, my nephew."

"No, it's not." Katara spoke up. "More like three-on-three." Zuko stilled. "Her friends Mai and Ty Lee will be there to back her up."

"M-Mai and Ty Lee?" Zuko stammered. Jin stared at him carefully. "They're here?"

"Well, yes." Katara frowned. "How do you know them?"

"They've been Azula's friends for years." The young Prince rested his head in his hands. "I was forced to play with them when we were kids." Katara's eyes narrowed in his direction. "It was really another way just another way for Azula to torture me." He defended himself, cheeks flushed at the memory of the burning apple. _All the same... I don't think I could hurt them... I __**know**__ I couldn't hurt them. Which makes me more of an enemy in Katara's eyes..._

"Even so, we will be all right." Iroh brought the pair from their edge of explosion, the air tense. Everyone could tell that Katara longed to scream at him for his acquaintance with the two girls she despised so deeply. "But I need the pair of you to be civil."

"We are-"

"I am serious, Zuko." Iroh said, somewhat sternly, directing his stare at the boy who slowly raised his head. "I know you don't like each other, but if you cannot co-operate, then everything will quickly fall apart."

"I never said I didn't like Katara." Zuko argued. It was true. What he had felt for her had been nothing but indifference and at times contempt. She was just one of Aang's companions. He'd never hated her. Under the table, Jin squeezed his hand, giving the male a small smile. Katara looked as though she wanted to say something unkind, and probably justified, but she held it back, taking a final bite of her sandwich.

"Lets... Just go." Iroh slowly stood up from the table. "We need to move as fast as possible if we want to get there in time."

"All right." Jin and Zuko stood up, still holding hands. Katara stood up silently, walking past Zuko without speaking. She pushed open the front door, and waited outside, arms crossed. "What is her _problem?"_ Jin breathed. "You're bending over backwards and she doesn't even care..."

"She's still hurting." Zuko whispered. "After what I've done, I can't blame her, really." Jin sighed, but remained silent, wanting to kick Zuko yet again for his melancholy behaviour. True, this Zuko was better than the angry jerk he once was, but she was starting to get aggravated with his guilt. Sure, it wasn't really his fault, and it was something he had little control over. She understood that in Ba Sing Se, with a new name and her persona, Zuko was able to put his past behind him, and look forward, establish a new life for himself. But Katara's appearance tore the off bandages before he had healed. It was an ugly reminder that he had the capability to be a monster, that he was a despicable person just a few short months ago. Her attitude hardly helped things, either. Jin tightened her hold on Zuko's hand, resting her free limb across his back as he paused in the doorway, staring around at the bright little living room.

"What are you doing?" She rested her chin on his shoulder, doing all she could to comfort him. Although he tried to hide it, from her especially, Zuko was afraid. It made her ache, his insecurities, and although she found several completely ridiculous, that didn't lesson her affection towards him, her desire to comfort him.

"Just..." Zuko sighed. "Just trying to remember things... In case I don't come back here." He turned, and swallowed.

"You will, Zuko." Jin said, watching as he closed the door. "You're going to be fine. Everything will be okay."

"... I know." Zuko said after a small stretch of silence, somewhat unconvincingly. He had a terrible feeling, however, in the pit of his stomach, that everyone was somehow going to go horribly, unimaginatively wrong.

Unfortunately for them all, Zuko's gut instincts were right.

* * *

It looked so... _peaceful._

There was a lump in Aang's throat as he stared down at the city, where shadow still pooled in the city, the sun not yet high enough to shine over the astronomically high wall. He could see the speck-like figures of people, moving about in the streets, a low hum of voices hovering on the very edge of his earshot.

"You all right there, Twinkletoes?" Aang blinked, and looked over to the girl, who clung to Sokka's arm. The pair had found her before dawn, well, to be more correct, they found a massive dust cloud moving at a vast rate of knots. He forced a weak smile, and nodded, before realising that she, of course, couldn't see him.

"Fine." His voice shook, to his dismay, and he looked away, swallowing. At his side, Sokka rubbed his shoulder sympathetically. "I'm _fine_, Sokka." He said firmly, shrugging away from the elder boy. "Let's head down." He said shortly, beginning to tug on the reins.

"Reckon we'll be able to get in all right?" Toph asked, tightening her hold on Sokka's arm as Appa dipped in the air.

"No one's shooting anything at us yet." The three arched their back instinctively as Appa dropped dramatically. "We should be fine." The younger children were hardly comforted by Sokka's words, and as the bison landed in the front courtyard, the children slid to the ground silently.

"Dai Li." Toph spoke up instantly, the moment her feet touched the stone. The two boys instinctively froze, Aang clutching his staff and Sokka reaching for his boomerang. "On the roof to our right. They're going now, probably warning Azula that we're here. Don't make a scene you two. They could just spring out of nowhere. Let's just get to the Earth King."

"... All right." As Sokka and Toph began to climb the ostentatious stairs, Aang turned back to Appa. "Maybe you should stay away, buddy." He forced a smile. "I'll call you when we need help, all right?" With a roar, Appa crashed his tail against the stone, ascending into the sky.

"Aang, come on!" Sokka called from halfway up the stairs. "We're burning daylight! Get your butt up here!"

"... Coming!" Aang struck his staff against the ground, the paper wings of his glider unfurling. He flew to the top of the staircase, wanting to save time and energy, trying and failing to shake off pangs of tiredness.

"Great." The trio knew their way to the throne room like the back of their hands by now, having gone there several times since their first intrusion.

"Hopefully we're not too early." Toph mused, keeping her ears and feet out for any Dai Li.

"The sun rose like, two hours ago." Sokka argued. "Who the heck isn't up by now?"

"My father never got up before lunch if he could help it." Toph argued. "Nobility and Royalty like to sleep in, Sokka. Not like they have much else to do, really."

"If he's not there, we'll go to his royal chambers." Aang said firmly. "I don't care if it's rude. This is _important_."

"Of course it is." The large doors to the throne room had been thrown open, unattended. Sokka led the way, but he hadn't even taken half a dozen steps into the room before he noticed the kneeling girls, in front of an empty throne.

"Hello!" The girl on the left spoke up brightly. The three recognized her as the acrobatic Ty Lee, especially Toph, who wasn't hampered by visual disguise. "What are you-"

"Cut the lies!" Aang stepped forward, brandishing his staff threateningly. "Where's Katara!" The two stilled. "Come out Azula!" He shouted. "Stop being a coward! Come out and fight me!"

"With _pleasure_." Aang had barely a second before a jet of blue flame issued from his left, the nomad leaping out of the way. As he dropped lightly to the floor, Azula emerged from behind the tall pillar, hands crackling with fire.

It was on. Ty Lee made a dash for Toph, intent on taking her out first. Sensing her movements, the girl tried to knock her down by shifting massive slabs of rock wherever Ty Lee landed, but instead of stumbling, the nimble girl used the force to her advantage, the last propelling her high enough so that she was able to grasp at one of the many strings of lanterns that crossed the massive throne room. She hoisted herself up onto the wire, which was really no different to the many tight-ropes she had performed and practised on over the years, and crouched, waiting for the blind girl to let her guard down.

Mai, on the other hand, was being slightly less serious. Sokka was able to beat away most of what was thrown at him with his blade, panting with the strain of trying to keep up with a girl whose agility far outstripped his own. She was toying with him really, treating him as a mildly interesting human target. With a well-placed throw, she was able to hit the male in the wrist – due to the leather and cloth that Sokka had wrapped around them, the darts' penetration was shallow, less than half an inch deep, but Sokka still yelped, his tribal sword clattering to the floor. Mai smirked, hands dripping afresh with knives, but as she let them fly, Toph hastily drew up a wall of earth between them, sprinting to Sokka. As she did so, Mai looked up, and, seeing Ty Lee still suspended on the string of lanterns, reached for a specific curved blade hidden beneath her armour.

Aang was having a much harder time. Azula's attacks were relentless, and as he had no water, he was forced to fight without the most powerful counter-element to her blue flames. He was being defensive, he knew, and as a result, Azula became playful, as though it was a game of catch. She would hurl a nasty burst of flame his way, and he was forced to either dodge, or try and block it. He tried a throwing a few rocks at her, but nothing could stick. She was winning, without a doubt.

"What's the matter?" Azula paused, speaking mockingly to the young nomad. "Is this _really_ the best you can do, Avatar?"

"I'll show _you!"_ Angered, Aang forced a wave of stone against her, the princess crying out as she was thrown a good twenty feet. "Is _that_ enough?"

"My, my." Her hair falling out of the simple headdress, Azula smirked, narrowing her eyes. She was moderately impressed, and more than a little pleased. This was _fun_.

"Where is she?" Aang demanded again, his staff pointed threateningly to her as she straightened up. "What did you do to Katara?"

"Oh, the water tribe girl?" Azula walked in a slow arc, reminiscent of a tigress hunting her prey. "Is _that_ why you're here?" Aang's jaw clenched, hands tightening on his staff. "She's locked up nice and tight, Avatar." Her hands curled into fists. "Don't worry." Another handful of fire was flung towards Aang; this time, he simply blew it away with a massive gust of wind, shaking madly.

"Nice one, Sokka." Behind the curtain of stone, Toph rolled her blind eyes as the boy clutched his wrist, biting his lip in pain.

"She _stabbed_ me in the _arm_, Toph!" Sokka howled, gritting his teeth, and clenching on to the slim weapon protruding from his wrist. Eyes clenched tightly, he tugged hard at the dart, attempting to pull it free. Both of them didn't notice Ty Lee's graceful swoop to the ground, trailing by the freshly-sliced string of lanterns, Sokka being fixated on his wounded arm, Toph unable to tell what was going on in the air. The acrobatic young girl landed lightly on the stone, just a few feet away from Toph, her landing calculated perfectly. Toph gasped at the contact, turning. Her reflexes were in this case, however, too slow, Ty Lee was too close. The young girl cried out as she was hit in the side, and went to force Ty Lee away with a boulder. However, a split second after she'd been hit, Toph realised exactly what Ty Lee had done.

"_No!"_ Her instant reaction was to panic, grasping wildly for something to hold on to. "S-Sokka? Where _are_ you! Sokka!" The stone felt dead under her feet, cold and unmoving. She was actually _blind._ Toph took several steps, trying desperately to find the boy. Her voice was catching in her throat, breathing on the verge of hyperventilation. Toph rarely lost her composure, But she was terrified, the dead earth beneath her a painful reminder of her younger, darker days, unable to tell what was going on around her. "_Sokka!"_

"Toph!" He seized her wrist with his good hand, backing away from Ty Lee. "It's okay." He said breathlessly. "I got you." He eyed his sword on the ground, too far away to be of any use, and gulped. _Not good not good... This is __**so**__ not good..._

"Stop playing around, Avatar." Azula smirked, eyes narrowed almost to slits. "You and I both know you can do better." Aang gasped, barely dodging another blast. "Come on." She flung her arms out, smirk widening. Seizing the opportunity, Aang flung a rather sizable boulder her way, hoping to knock the girl to the ground again. He was successful – the breath was knocked out of Azula's lungs as she crashed against the wall of the throne room. Aangs' jaw had tightened, his hands still trembling.

"_Where's Katara!"_ Azula had barely a heartbeat to leap out of the way, before being struck by another boulder. She righted herself, panting a little. "What have you _done_ with her?"

"Nothing..." Azula's tone was deceptively innocent. "... Much." She was lying, really. Beyond paralyzing her and having her locked up, they hadn't hurt the girl. Azula always lied. However, Aang, who had horrible visions of Katara facing torture and abuse, took her words for truth. Azula clenched her fists, taking a fighting stance, an eyebrow raised. He looked _furious._ _Appears I've touched a rather painful nerve..._ Before she could attack, however, Aang struck. With a cry, Azula found herself encased in stone to the knee. She tried to move, planning to blast herself free, but before she moved another inch, the ground beneath her shifted. The breath was knocked from Azula's lungs as Aang crushed her against the stone, wrists encircled with rock, cementing her to the wall.

"_Hey!"_ The other four had stopped at the sound of Azula's yelp, Ty Lee near tears, Mai's knives clattering to the floor. Sokka looked from Azula, who struggled in vain, to Aang, who brought his left foot to the ground, bringing forth a very large, very heavy rock, his heart plummeting in sick terror.

_He's going to kill her_.

He had seconds at best. The boy didn't even know what he was doing as he sprinted towards the trapped Princess, heart thudding in his ears. _I can't... He said I had to stop him..._ There was no mercy in Aang's eyes as he raised his staff. Whatever Azula had said to him, it had obviously been horrible. He was gone, deaf to verbal reason. His breath a hollow rasp in his throat, Sokka flung himself in front of Azula, arms splayed, chest heaving.

"_Don't!_" He pleaded in a gasp, looking Aang straight in the eye. "Aang, _stop!"_ Sokka was trembling, thinking that for a horrible, heart-breaking second, that Aang wouldn't stop, and that the pair would both be dead. The Princess stared at Sokka, confused. _What is that idiot peasant __**doing**__? He'll get himself killed!_ Aang froze, Sokka's earnest, terrified face piercing through his haze of rage.

"S-Sokka?" He breathed, eyes widening. "What are you _doing?"_

"Y-You said if you lost it that I-I had to..." The chunk of stone fell to the floor, Aang's head bowed. Behind Sokka, Azula exhaled deeply, more than a little shaken. "You don't want to kill her." Aang slowly lifted his head, and Sokka saw that he had tears in his eyes.

_What have I done?_ Aang felt sick as he stared past Sokka, and to Azula, who had actually lost her composure, visibly shaking. _I... I was going to kill her._ His heart still thudded with rage, the nausea in his stomach rising. Whether she deserved it or not didn't matter at all. He would never be _anyone's _executioner. Aang's staff slid from his fingers as he closed his eyes, trying to force the bile from his throat. He thought he was literally going to be sick. He'd lost control before, but this was worse. This was entirely his doing. He couldn't blame uncontrollable spiritual energy on this. He was actually going to kill her... He was capable...

A heartbeat later, Azula's stone manacles crumbled, Aang releasing her. She didn't waste a moment, righting herself, pushing her loose hair out of her face. The Avatar was down. Azula didn't know what was running through his head, and frankly, she didn't care. She pushed Sokka aside easily, the teenager gasped as he fell to the floor, instinctively throwing out his bad wrist to save himself. He pulled himself to a half-sitting position, pain coursing through his forearm.

"_AANG!"_ Sokka shouted at the top of his lungs, heart apparently frozen in his chest. Azula's hands sizzled with lightning, an eery blue halo radiating around her athletic frame. Snapping out of his torpor, Aang gasped, but he was far too late. Sokka screamed as the bolt of lightning flew, fatally accurate. Aang was hit squarely in the chest, the force of the blow flinging him across the massive throne room. He crumpled against the wall, a broken doll, completely still, eyes closed.

"Almost too easy." Azula began to cross the room coolly, while Sokka remained on the floor, completely frozen in shock. He was vaguely aware of an odd rushing in his ears, eyes stinging with tears. "Huh." A sickening wave of nausea rose in Sokka's chest as Azula seized the lifeless body with a perfectly manicured hand. She held Aang by the front of his torn clothing, two fingers pressed against his throat, trying to find a pulse. It was weak, a stutter, but it was there. _Stubborn little brat_.

"Not quite dead." The words hit Sokka like a sledgehammer, the teenager unable to breathe. "He'll be gone within the hour." She gave a derisive chuckle. "It took us a hundred years to do _that?"_ Azula turned away from Aang. "Father will be _very _happy to know that I defeated the Avatar _and_ Ba Sing Se in the same day." She examined the other figures in the room, eyes roving from Mai, who wore a blank mask, to a very shaken Ty Lee, to Toph, whose hair hid her tearstained face, and finally to Sokka, who was trying very hard to fight back a retch. The Dai Li filed in quietly, the only sound they made the soft scrape of bare feet on stone.

_This isn't happening_. Sokka bowed his head, convinced he was going to vomit. _This can't be happening... He's not... He can't be... Oh __**Spirits**__what have I done? If I knew she would pull something that sneaky... I wouldn't have saved her... But I wasn't saving her, I was saving Aang... But..._

"Clean this mess up before the Earth King arrives." Azula called out to the rigid lines of Dai Li. "Put those two in a cell, and the Avatar in a room near mine. I want to keep an eye on him. Dismissed."

Rough hands dragged Sokka on to his feet, hands quickly encased in stone, but the teenager barely noticed. His chest felt hollow, heart banging in his ears like a drum. He was in shock – beyond shock. Aang was _dying_, thrown carelessly over the shoulder of a Dai Li agent, the torn front of his shirt already blossoming red.

_It's over._ Sokka closed his eyes, trying to stop the horrible wheeling of the earth beneath his feet. _We've... lost.

* * *

_OMG LIKE CLIFFHANGER!

Sort of. Next chapter should be fun party times :D

R&R peoples! Make me happy lol


	16. Chapter 16

OMG LIKE WOWOW

I AM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE!

Blame my college lecturers, dumping ASSLOADS of shit on me. Because, yeah, I apparently don't have a life (Yes, I consider writing fanfic a life. Shut up. Hey, YOU'RE the one reading this!)

That, and this caused problems for me. See if you can spot where (it's not hard).

As a side note, I saw a few eyebrows had arched over chapter 14. I know the circumstances were a little bit out there but, come on, this is Avatar we're talking about here. The entire _universe_ is pretty much working (or attempting to work) in Aang's favour to lay the smack down.

-coughMAGICALPROJECTINGROCKRESTORINGAANG'SAVATARSTATEJUSTWHENALLHOPEISLOSTcough-

Sorry, just had a frog in my throat. On with the chapter, shall we?

* * *

"This is the place."

The young man bit down on his lower lip as he stood up, wavering slightly on the sheet of ice, and pressed his palm against the rusting metal surface. He recounted slowly in his head, going over the instructions in his mind, the turns and number of manhole openings throughout the confusing labyrinth of tunnels which made the complicated sewerage system of the Upper Ring and Palace. Meng nodded slowly, convinced that he was right.

"Great." Jin's nose wrinkled, the overwhelming odour causing the meat and bread in her stomach to churn uncomfortably. "I'm _sure_ we could have found an easier way in..."

"Not likely." Meng pushed at the metal lid, hoping it wasn't locked. "Apparently, this brings us right inside the Palace." With a rusty scrape, he was able to push the flat metal free, the lid making an uncomfortable clang on the stone floor above.

"I still can't believe that Dai Shi's brother told you about this." Jin muttered as Meng hoisted himself upwards, the wasted muscles of his arms trembling with the strain. "Why didn't he tell _me?"_ Katara easily leaped out of the sewer, and into the dark little room, frowning lightly.

"What _is_ this place?" She peered through the gloom, making out a few vague shapes, but nothing distinct. "Some sort of storage room?"

"Probably maintenance." Iroh strained a little as he hoisted himself into the room. "There's a similar system in the Fire Nation palace to this... But nothing so sophisticated..."

"Don't tell that to Firelord Ozai." Katara murmured, still more than a little shaken.

"To be honest, I could comfortably go without seeing my brother for the rest of my life." Iroh summoned a small flame in his hand, the cheery light illuminating the room. "Ah, there's the door."

"That definitely makes two of us." Zuko sounded unsettled as he lifted himself out of the metal sewerage pipe. Katara stared at him, her frown deepening. _Why? _For the first time, Katara realised that she actually had no idea why Zuko had been sent to hunt down Aang, why he was so ruthlessly determined to avoid failure. He leaned downwards, extending an arm to Jin. Although she could have easily gotten up herself, she gladly accepted the chivalric gesture.

"Anyone have any idea where we actually are?" Katara enquired hopefully, Meng running his fingers across the brickwork, looking for a door.

"Not a clue." He paused, frowning. "There's no door..."

"So?" Jin straightened herself, brushing at her dress. "You're an awesome bender. Make one."

"Yeah, but where?" Meng was still deep in thought. "I don't know which way anything is."

"Well, the sewer cover is by the wall." Zuko slowly lowered the lid back, muffling the pungent smell. "So I'd guess it's directly opposite."

"Yeah." He cautiously pressed his hands against the stone. "I'm a little worried hordes of Dai Li are going to rush in or something."

"This far down?" Iroh shook his head. "Don't worry."

"Hurry up Meng, before I do it." Jin muttered, drawing her clothing tightly around herself. "This darkness is giving me the creeps..."

"Oh, all right." With a wave of his hand, the stone slid apart silently, leaving a space big enough for the others to escape. The five found themselves in a long, dark corridor, lit only by green lanterns on the walls. "What the..."

"Some kind of passage." Iroh looked thoughtful. "... Right." He started to walk slowly. "Now, I hate to say this, but we're going to have to split up."

"I figured." Meng raised his eyes to the ceiling, apparently deep in thought. "Hey... Look, I can take care of the Earth King, if you want."

"What?" Zuko frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Look, from what you've told me, that Azula sounds like a _real_ handful. And I've been sneaking in an out of places since before you were born."

"But-"

"I know it's a big job. I know you think I can't handle it. But which one of you is going to go, and leave the other two to face Azula?" Meng paused, studying the three's reactions.

"... He's got a point." Katara spoke up. "Besides, an earth bender would find it a lot easier to find their way around a palace of stone."

"Exactly. Look, you guys going and doing your thing is really, really important. Jin and I can find the Earth King, and get him somewhere safe."

"No." Jin argued stoutly. Meng turned to her, frowning. "I'm not going with you." She clarified, hands curling into fists.

"Yes, you are." Meng repeated, his voice just as firm. "What, do you honestly think that I'm just going to leave you?"

"Meng-"

"I am _not_ letting my little sister run into that kind of trouble." He cut over Jin quickly. "No way, not ever. You're coming with me."

"No!" She shot back. "You're not the boss of me, Meng. I'm not twelve anymore, times have changed. And you can't tell me what to do."

"Jin." Zuko eventually spoke up, the girl wheeling around to stare at him. "Jin, you don't want to be there for this."

"It's nothing I can't handle-"

"It's not that." Zuko pleaded. "I know my sister. I know what she's capable of. She'll do something sneaky, underhanded."

"What do you mean, like fighting dirty?" _Isn't that something to be expected? Who actually sticks to decent rules when they're fighting?_

"Beyond fighting dirty." Iroh clarified what Zuko was evidently too embarrassed to say. "Jin, while you're there, Azula will have a very strong handle on Zuko." Katara stared at Zuko, who clenched the sleeves of his robe in his hands, fingers digging into the hem. It was so hard to think of Zuko as having a weakness, aside from his Uncle. But this wasn't a close relative, who was usually perfectly capable of taking care of himself. This was a _girl._

"... Oh." Jin swallowed. _I didn't think about it like that..._ Zuko's eyes were focused intently on the ground, hands invisibly in his sleeves. _Oh, that is still so sweet though..._ "I-I didn't think..."

"Azula will exploit every possible weakness that she possible can." Iroh said gravely. "If we have her trapped, as we will, then she will doubtlessly resort to something dishonourable again."

"Again?" Jin frowned, noticing how Zuko tensed dramatically. "What did she..."

"Shot General Iroh with lightning, seconds after claiming to surrender." This time, it was Katara who spoke up. Jin's eyes widened. "I was there. It was six on one, we had her completely trapped."

"That's... Who _does_ that?" Jin was shocked. _No wonder Zuko hates her so much... But for someone so 'perfect', that's a really low blow._

"My sister." Zuko said, his voice shaking slightly, as the painful memories of the abandoned desert town were dragged back to the surface. "Let's keep moving. A maintenance worker might come down and see us."

"Good idea." Meng trailed his hand along the stone as he walked, trying to get some sort of feel for the place. "We need to find a staircase... Or perhaps make one..."

"We may want to keep that as a last resort." Katara bit her lip. "The moment that the Dai Li get wind of us being here..."

"Yeah, we're pretty much screwed." Jin said drily. "Just curiously though, what _does_ the Fire Nation do to war criminals?"

"Oh, Zuko and I face torture and execution if we're ever caught." Iroh spoke rather mildly in regards to the grisly topic. Zuko's jaw tensed, the teenager trying very, very hard not to think about such an outcome. Katara felt something flip uncomfortably in her stomach, thinking about Azula's indulgent phrasing on the same subject. "War criminals are usually sent either to a prison in the capital, of if they're special enough, the Boiling Rock."

"Ugh, don't _mention_ that place." Zuko muttered, shuddering visibly. "I'm glad I never had to visit that prison. Azula used to give me nightmares telling stories about that place."

"All true, sadly." Iroh sighed. "Such a place is not fit for prisoners of war. Murderers, thieves, and the like, perhaps..." He shook his head. "You do not want to hear of that prison."

"Sounds like a bad place." Jin breathed. "Let's... Just try and avoid that outcome then, shall we?" The passage narrowed into a claustrophobic, spiralling staircase, Zuko taking the lead, hand on his swords, Jin directly behind him.

"Don't have to tell me again." Meng muttered. "I'm _not_ going back to prison. Death would be better."

"You would be surprised, how many captured soldiers we would find dead in their cells. Unfortunately, the Fire Nation has garnished an infamous reputation for their cruelty." Iroh's voice was heavy with regret as he spoke, with the inflection of a man who had seen and done too many things in his time, jaded and world-weary. "The sooner this war is over..."

"Sooner life can get back to normal." Katara sighed. _Normal._ That was an alien term to her. Since when had things ever been _normal?_ She'd felt as though her world was slowly crashing down around her, piece by piece. How was _anything_ supposed to be normal again? How could she ever return home whole, unchanged, after everything she had seen and done? Things would never be normal for her again.

"I don't think anything will ever make life normal." Zuko commented in a low voice. "They haven't been for a _long_ time." Jin reached forward, finding Zuko's hand. She gave it a comforting squeeze, nails digging gently. She felt him squeeze back for a moment, then let go. Katara opened her mouth, about to speak, but then closed it again, frowning. _Why does he feel exactly as I do?_ "Door." Zuko pressed his hand against the stone. "Of sorts. It's another one you have to open by earth bending."

"I got it." Jin stepped forward, the stone shifting with a groan and a shudder. "They're a big fan of invisible doorways, aren't they?"

"No kidding." Katara stood in the hallway, blinking a little in the mid-morning light. "Hey. I know where we are." She stared around herself. "Yes, I know exactly where we are. I came here trying to find Momo a couple of days ago, after he flew off looking for the kitchens. This is on one of the lower floors. The Earth's Kings private apartments are way at the top. He's usually there in the mornings. There's a back staircase which the servants use at the end of the hallway somewhere."

"Knock a couple out and steal their uniforms." Meng nodded. "Perfect. We won't even have to bother hiding."

"What about Azula?" Zuko asked. "Where will she be? She could be anywhere in the castle."

"I'm willing to bet she's in the throne room." Katara muttered. "Besides, that place is watched by the Earth King's personal guard, not the Dai Li. So are the private apartments. They won't know anything is wrong, so we should just get in."

"All right." Meng took Jin's wrist. "We should clear out now, before we're seen."

"Yes." Iroh blinked. "Oh! Before you go, are either of you two aware of the Dancing Monkey?"

"... The tavern?" Meng frowned. "Kind of near the iron factories? Has a pretty good brew?"

"One and the same." Iroh nodded. "Ask for Minsheng, the barkeeper or his brother Jing. They will look after the Earth King and make sure he is safe." Jin frowned.

"So, they know who you are?" Jin tested carefully, the night she spent in the tavern pumping the drunken man for information coming back to her.

"Yes, I've met up with them several times since I arrived here. Jing is quite a worthy opponent at Pai Sho, but hardly an equal match, if I do say so myself." Zuko shook his head, rolling his eyes. "What?"

"How is it that even when we're in ridiculous danger like this, all you can think about is Pai Sho?" Exasperation was clear in his voice, but everyone could see that Zuko was smiling.

"Priorities, my nephew." He smiled widely in return. "Now, quickly."

"Yes." Meng began to walk, his clamp on Jin's wrist as tight as ever. "Good luck, you guys!" He called, Jin's eyes widening. She tugged herself free of his grasp, heart thudding. "Jin, what are you doing?"

"Just a sec." Zuko's eyes widened as Jin flung herself into his arms, lips parted in a breathless gasp. Her arms wound themselves about his neck as she kissed him, fingers digging into the brown cloth of his robe. It was several seconds before Jin allowed herself to pull apart, a burning ember in her throat. "_Come back._" She breathed shakily in his ear, their eyes meeting for just a moment as they pulled apart. Then, she broke away, biting down hard on her lower lip to stop it from trembling.

"Come on." Iroh tugged at Zuko's shoulder gently, Jin turning away, breaking into a jog as she made her way to her brother. "Focus, Zuko." He muttered lowly, eyes boring into the young Prince for a few seconds before he began to walk, a still-shaken, but increasingly resolute Katara following quickly.

"You too." Zuko breathed the words, a faintest whisper, knowing that there was no real way that Jin could have heard. He backed away, feet carrying him in a slow, dream-like state while he stared at her retreating figure. She made him weak in the knees._ I can't feel like this!_ He admonished himself quickly. _Not when we're going to face Azula, not today. _

_I have to put her away, in the back of my mind._ Zuko's stomach contracted painfully. _And... Keep her there._ He turned, away from her, his gut positively in pain. _No matter what happens today, I'm leaving Ba Sing Se behind me. I'm leaving __**her**__ behind._

_No!_

Instinctively, he stopped in his walk, turning about on his heel. His breath stalled in his throat, and he clenched his hands tightly, feeling his palms slicken with sweat. She knew. She understood that things were going to change forever and it was over. That was why she was crying, although she refused to show it. _I can't..._ Zuko watched her, a green smudge at the end of the hallway, shrinking further before turning a corner and disappearing. _What else am I going to do? _He heard his Uncle pull up short in his walk, heard a soft sigh of annoyance. _What!_ Zuko screamed mentally, eyes screwed up tight. _What do you __**want**__ from me, Uncle? To just turn away and forget her completely? You set us up, you told me to go out with her! _

"Zuko-"

"I'm never going to see her again." His voice trembled in the last syllable, a testament to his shaking figure.

"We have to hurry." Iroh pushed at Zuko's shoulder firmly, coaxing him to walk. "Azula must be under control before the Dai Li begin their coup. Time is of the utmost importance Zuko. Focus." He repeated, voice hardening.

With a slight nod, Zuko nodded, his bones and organs feeling as fragile and brittle as glass and paper.

* * *

"You... You feeling better?"

The question was double-layered. Sokka tightened his arm, which he had draped around the young girls' shoulders some time ago.

"Can't see just yet." Toph's toes curled against the smooth metal, the balloon of panic in her chest only inflating. The vibrations were a dull, low hum, flat and monotonous. Not the song she was used to. It was still terrifying, but a stronger consolation than the dead silence. That, at least, was dissipating. They were _trapped_ in this metal cell, and without her bending, there was no way they could escape. And more importantly... _Aang's dead..._

"It's not permanent." Sokka tried to sound consoling, his voice stretched and thin in the dim green half-light. "You'll be okay soon."

"No." Her fingers had twisted into the blue cloth of his tunic. She was clinging to him. "I won't... Sokka... Aang is-"

"I know." He cut over the young girl quietly, the nausea as strong as ever. "He's... Gone."

_I killed him._

It was an outrageous claim, making sense only in Sokka's mind, maddened with grief. If he had never stepped in front of Azula, Aang wouldn't have backed down. She wouldn't have had her fatal edge against him. What he had done was as good as murder, in his eyes. If he had known that Azula would be so horribly underhanded, he would have never tried to save her. _But I wasn't saving her. I was saving Aang..._ Sokka tried to imagine how Aang would have reacted when he snapped out of his rage and realised that he had killed Azula. He would have probably gone insane with grief and self-loathing. His common restraint in the battlefield, which increased with his skill, was a testament to his very strong fear that he would betray the values of his people. _He would have hated me for not trying to stop him... But nowhere near as much as he would hate himself for taking a life..._

_We aren't cut out for this_. Sokka leaned his head against the smooth metal, eyes closed. _We really are just a bunch of kids. And what's going to happen to us now? I don't even want to think... _Despite himself, images of horror filtered through his mind. _What are we going to do without Aang? Go back home? We could try and find the next Avatar... He's going to be from the Water Tribe after all..._

_Oh spirits._ Sokka's eyes snapped open, nausea increasing tenfold, crippling his stomach. _They're going to look for the new Avatar. They're going to do to my people what they did to the Air Nomads a hundred years ago. They'll burn everything to the ground and leave no survivors..._

"Sokka?" Toph's tired voice broke through the gloom. "Your heartbeat just spiked. What's wrong?"

"T-Toph..." He realised with a start his teeth were chattering. "Now Aang's... The next Avatar is going to be from the Water Tribes."

"Yeah?" Toph didn't understand Sokka's intense fear. "We'll find who it is, and... I don't know... Raise them, I guess. Teach them the elements and stuff... Although without airbending I don't know h-"

"No, Toph." Sokka cut over the young girl urgently. "We can't... Wh-what is the Fire Nation way of killing an Avatar?"

"I-_Oh." _She paused, and swallowed. "I... I don't know..."

"They're going to wipe them out." Sokka mumbled blankly. "Every last one of them. They won't let the Avatar slip through their fingers again. They'll make_ sure_ this time. Even if we hid, they would scour the entire world, making sure-"

"All _right_, shut up." Toph stood up, fingers twisted in her hair. "Sokka, you're torturing yourself with evil thoughts. Stop it."

"I can't_ help_ it!" Sokka snapped back. "They... They can't... Not everything... They've tried before, at the North Pole, and they couldn't..."

"With the power of this comet you all keep going about, they would." Toph approached the door, pressing her palms against the metal. She took a long, slow breath, trying to quell her racing heart. This required intense concentration and focus. "Sokka, that's months away. We can make everyone safe in that time." She tried to feel the grain of the metal, drumming her fingers against the surface to feel the vibrations. Although she hadn't regained her full bending, chi paths still partially blocked, she thought – hoped – that she had enough in her to break the bolt on the door.

With a deep breath, Toph withdrew a clenched fist, bringing it against the door. The _thud_ sounded agonizing to Sokka's ears, and Toph gasped, rapidly shaking her inflamed hand. But the metal had caved, even if just a couple of inches.

With a smirk of determination, Toph cracked her knuckles. _Easy_.

* * *

"Are you going to be all right?" Meng spoke gently, his hand resting on Jin's arm. They had paused after turning a corner, the wide hallway airy and silent. She stared at the ground for another lingering moment, before lifting her gaze. Her eyes were astonishingly dark, somewhat glazed. "Look, you can go home. I can take care of this if you w-"

"No." She shook her head slowly, as though the motion strained her. "I can do this." Jin closed her eyes, and let out a long breath through pursed lips. "I just... What if something happens? And... This is it?"

"Then make sure nothing happens." Her brother said simply, rubbing at the blue shadows under his eyes. "Jin, I don't want to do this either. To be honest, I just want to go home. I want to _sleep_ and I want to pretend that these past four years have just been nothing but this one long fucking _nightmare."_ Jin jumped as the rather sizeable rock crashed into the hefty stone wall, feeling nauseated with guilt. "Come on." His voice was rough, the harsh, thin consistency of sandpaper.

"I... am so sorry." She eventually choked after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. "I-I didn't-"

"Don't apologize." He walked in front of her, taking short, quick steps. "I told you to stop."

"All right." Jin spoke carefully, a needle of fear piercing her heart. "Meng... Are you... Okay?"

"... Yes." He answered after several seconds of tense quietness. "I'm just a little... You have to understand, Jin."

"I do." The young woman stared at her brothers' face for a second, studying the hollows and angles of his cheeks. "I think. I'm trying."

"Good." He paused a moment, breaking into a tired, false smile. "So... Can you fill me in on this Fire Nation Prince you're going out with?"

"Oh!" Jin coloured hotly. "You mean Zuko? Yeah... He's been living in Ba Sing Se for a month or so now... He and his uncle came here as refugees after becoming enemies of the state. I know that they're from the Fire Nation and most people would think that scary. I did too, when I first found out, I was terrified and I tried to stop myself from seeing him but I-"

"Jin, shut up." He gave her a short hug with one arm, wrapping the limb across her shoulders. "I never could see you settling down with a regular craftsman. You always were a strange one, Jin. Look, he's a nice guy, I can tell that already. And anyone willing to risk their neck for me is okay in my book and more decent that nearly everyone else in this city."

"Yeah..." She rubbed the back of his neck. "He is... Nothing like anyone else. But Meng... Don't tell Ma and Dad and the rest. Please. Around the others he's just Lee the tea-shop boy."

"Understood." He nodded. "What the.... Oh _crap." _The sound of footsteps caught Meng's ear, and with a start, he reached Jin's sleeve. They leapt through the nearest door, a storage room, Jin straightening her clothes while the young male held the door closed, listening keenly. "Hope they're not Dai Li..."

"... You're joking. You're _joking."_

"I'm not. Xin Fan saw his body herself." It was two servant girls, probably on their way to the kitchens. Jin stood very still, a deep frown etched on her features. _Whose body..._ "She said he looked dead. She saw them in the chambers in the eastern wing, near where those Kiyoshi girls are staying."

"That is _horrible!_ I just... I can't believe it..." Both of the girls sounded distraught, a painful sensation in Jin's stomach increasing. "What's going to happen now? I thought that our army was going to help the Avatar fight the Fire Nation... And now he's _dead?_"

"_No."_ Jin gasped aloud, knees weak. Meng hushed her anxiously, ear pressed against the door, heart thudding madly. _But how... He's not meant to be here..._

"I know... But shush! No one knows yet. Don't let anyone know I told you. Something is up here... Everything is so tense..." Their speech filtered away, leaving the stunned pair in silence. With a low groan, Meng leaned his forehead against the door, Jin shaking uncontrollably.

"It's... He's not... _dead_." She swallowed the word like a vile medicine. "They got it wrong..."

"Mistaking the Avatar?" Meng's voice was quivering. "I... I don't think so. He's..."

"_No_..." Jin wiped at her eyes, ribcage wracked with irrepressible, hyperventilating gasps. "H-he... h-how..."

"Jin." His hands on her shoulder quelled the girls' torpor in its infancy. "Jin, listen to me. You have to go and find the others. Tell them about what we heard. Maybe those servants were wrong. But either way, they have to find the Avatar."

"A-All right." Jin took several deep breaths. "But I... What about you? What are you going to do?"

"Same thing as before." He said shortly. "I'll take care of the Earth King, don't worry. You go and find the others before that Azula gets to them and everything really does go to pot."

"Meng-"

"Just go." He pushed the door open, stepping into the light. "_Quick_." The man pulled on her wrist, yanking her into the hall.

"Okay." Jin looked ill. "But... If something happens to me-"

"-You love Ma and the others." He spoke dismissively, with the air of someone who was positive that she was going to be all right. "I know I know. Get going, will you?" With a final nod, Jin backed away, staring at her brother for a few seconds, before breaking into a run, fingers skimming the stone wall, footsteps echoing along the wide passage.

* * *

"Any plans?"

Sokka looked over to the blind girl, who had doubled over on her hands and knees, panting. And no wonder. They had just cleared a good deal of the palace, thankfully without any disturbances, and were getting quite close to the outside courtyard, where Sokka planned to find Appa – although without that damned whistle he had no idea how it was going to work.

"I like the one where we get the hell out of here." Toph muttered between short, heaving breaths. "But we're not gonna go anywhere without the Sugar Queen, are we?"

"Of _course_ we aren't!" Sokka snapped. "She's gotta be somewhere in the palace. We've checked all the cells, so she's locked in a room somewhere. With Appa we can break down a few more walls and get out of here when it gets too hot."

"I figured." Inwardly, Toph felt like crumbling to the floor. "And we should find A-Aangs' body." She swallowed, trying to force back the bitter sensation building in her throat. "Bury him in his home."

"Yeah." Sokka was crying, Toph could tell from his heartrate and breathing. "I-I don't know how Air Nomads were laid to rest. Are they burned or buried, or what?"

"How should I know?" Toph pressed her hand against the stone, summoning forth her bending with all her might, chi paths still not completely clear. "We'll find some wall painting somewhere showing it." It was killing her to be so practical, when all she wanted to do was curl up and cry, but with Sokka so beside himself, someone had to remain stable, keep them together.

"I-I guess." Sokka swallowed deeply, burying the heel of his hands into his eyes. "But-"

"Shh!" Toph whispered, pressing her ear against the stone wall. Sokka froze. "I... I think it's..."

"Who?" Sokka breathed impatiently. "Who is it?"

"Quiet!" She snapped in return, straining to feel them. "It's three people. They're walking fast. I _think_ one of them may be Katara."

"_What?"_ Sokka hissed, grabbing Tophs' shoulder. "Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure." Toph bit her lip. "They're in the next passage over, heading towards us. But... This makes no sense..." Her frown deepened. "She's with Prince Zuko and General Iroh."

"_What?_" Sokka repeated. "No way! How? Why? Are you _sure_?"

"Zuko has the most depressed, heavy-footed walk I've ever felt." Toph remarked. "General Iroh's is almost as distinctive. I can't explain it properly, but yeah, it's them." Relief flooded her insides.

"Oh _man_, this gets worse!" Sokka bemoaned. "What are they doing to her? If they hurt my sister I'll-"

"They're not." Toph stepped back. "General Iroh's been on our side for ages." She recalled the conversation they had together, how with a little prodding on Tophs' part, Iroh had revealed a lot about his past, his stance, his future intentions, to her. "Guess Zuko finally came around." She parted the stone wall, leaping through lightly. Bewildered, having no idea of what Toph was on about, Sokka followed, pulling his sword from his waist.

"Toph!" The males froze as the young earthbender leaped out in front of them, Katara starting. "What are you doing here?"

"I should ask you the same thing." Toph spoke shakily, Katara noticed with an unsettling feeling in her stomach. Toph _never _lost her composure.

"Sokka?" Katara was stunned to see her brother follow, wide-eyed. "You're meant to be with Dad. What happened?"

"_Katara."_ The girl gasped as she was tightly embraced, anxiety rising. "I... Oh _Spirits_, I'm just so happy you're _okay._"

"Azula was holding you?" Iroh rightly guessed, earning a nod from Toph. "But... why are you two here?"

"Was Aang with you at all?" Katara pulled apart from her brother. "Where is he? We could _really_ use his help right now."

"Katara..." Sokka closed his eyes for a moment, words tangling together on his tongue. "Aang... He's..."

"He's _what?" _She stilled. "Sokka, wh-what happened?"

"He's dead." Toph spoke up after a moment of stilted silence. She felt three pairs of hearts race, Katara's most of all. The girl let out a cry, Sokka having to support her as her knees weakened in shock.

"_What?"_ Zuko breathed. "You're... _how?"_

"Your sister." Tophs' voice shook violently. "She got him with lightning... He was off-guard..."

"_No." _Katara started to hyperventilate, burying her face into Sokka's shoulder. Zuko stood open-mouthed, ears ringing with shock. _There's no way..._

"Are you _sure?"_ Iroh sounded almost pleading. "Lightning is survivable, and not always an instant kill..."

"He wasn't gone when he was carried off." Sokka spoke quietly, arms wrapped around his sister. How long had it been since she tried to seek comfort from him? "But... It was two hours ago... He can't still be alive, it's not possible."

"Anything is possible." Iroh murmured. _Especially with the Avatar_... "Do you know where he might be? Any idea at all?"

"Azula said something about a room near hers..." Toph spoke up, wiping hurriedly at her sightless eyes. "I don't know what she meant though..."

"I-I do..." Katara spoke through short, punctuated gasps. "Th-the room they were in whi-while in disguise. I kn-know where it is."

"We have to go _now."_ Iroh spoke firmly, rattled to the core. "If we're lucky, we may get there in time..." Katara's hand tightened around the amulet she wore at her neck. _The Spirit Water..._

"I can heal him." Katara's hands shook as she pulled the water from under her clothes. "Even if he's... g-gone, I might be able to do something..."

"Come on." Renewed, Sokka pulled at Katara's hand, her palm slick and sweaty against his. "We might just make it..." They all began to walk, a flurry of movement. Zuko stood stock still however, mind racing. _She did it... She did what I couldn't... What I tried to do for so long... Even if any part of me still wanted to go home..._

"Come, nephew." Iroh spoke gently in his ear, the hand on his Zuko's wrist warm. He knew better than anyone the anguished thoughts that ran through Zuko's mind, aching for the teenager.

_Perhaps now my nephew will truly make the right decision. _Iroh dared to hope. _That is, if he's still alive. If not..._

He closed his mind to the possibility, the ramifications of something so catastrophic too painful for even the aged, worldly General to consider.

* * *

_This isn't happening._ She tried, so hard, to calm herself. _It was a mistake... There's no way. The Avatar __**can't**__ be dead! Not the only chance we have left... Not our last hope... _

"_Zuko!"_ It was a very, very bad idea to scream for the teenager in the hall, but Jin was beyond desperate at this point. "Iroh? Katara! Where did you _go?"_ She was in the main hall again, where they had parted, and she ploughed on ahead, barely able to breathe. "_Guys?"_ She paused at a fork in the hall, struggling for air. Looking right, then left, she chose the wide stone passageway with the ridiculously huge double-doors. In retrospect, it was a _horrible_ idea to just go plunging through those unguarded doors, but Jin was desperate. She thought that they would be in there, after all, where else would they be? The idea that Azula would have already told them had failed to register with her, and to be perfectly honest a large part of her was desperate to reunite with Zuko. She couldn't face this _alone._

"Zuko! Iroh!" She pushed the doors apart, aided by her natural bending, running into the room. "You wo-" Jin stopped short as she realised that there were only three figures in the room, all female. Leaf-green eyes instantly locked on the girl in the middle, widening in sick recognition. She understood the connection in an instant. The golden-flame eyes, deathly pale skin, aristocratic high-boned features...

_Azula._

Jin's breath seized in her throat, heart thudding painfully in her ribcage. _No._ Legs wobbling, she backed away slowly, mouth dry. Azula stared at her coldly, mind behind those burning eyes going at full tick. Jin started, making to leave, but unfortunately for her, she had no idea of what the black-haired girl to Azula's left was capable of. Mai let Jin get to the door before she let the blades fly, her aim fatally accurate. Her scream cut through the air, causing Ty Lee to shiver and Azula to smile. Three darts snagged her left sleeve, pinning her to the door. Jin would have been able to pull herself free from this, but Mai had cleverly sent a dart through the palm of her right hand, her entire arm paralyzed with pain.

"_Now."_ Pinned against the grandiose door, Jin heard Azula's voice, low cold and deadly in her ear. "Who are you and _why_ are you calling for my brother and uncle?"

"I-I don't know what you're- _Ah!"_ She screamed as her hand was roughly yanked free of the wall, Azula's perfectly manicured nails digging sharply into her wrist.

"Don't even _try_ lying to me, peasant." The Princess hissed in Jin's ear, the weak-kneed girl fighting back stinging tears. "Where. Are. They."

"I-I don't know!" Jin howled, unable to think through the blinding pain and terror. She was vaguely aware of the ground rushing up to her knees, Azula's fingers tightening around her hand. "Please, I don't!"

"You thought they were here." She spoke slowly, evenly, stepping back. Azula could tell in an instant that this girl, whoever she was, wasn't a fighter, and if she was too frightened, she'd simply become hysterical and it would be impossible to get any information out of her.

"I-I don't know where they are..." Jin tried desperately to steady her breathing, head spinning. "P-please... I thought they would be here..."

"For me?" Jin looked up, cradling her damaged hand against her chest. After a moment, she nodded, trembling visibly. Azula narrowed her eyes, staring into space. "How did they know I was here?"

"I-I don't know." Jin stuttered. She thought momentarily about Katara. If they found out she was missing, the Dai Li would be aware of her brothers' disappearance as well. Hopefully, they wouldn't care, having far more on their plate, but Jin didn't dare to run the risk. _What am I doing, trying to lie to her? She'll burn me alive without a second thought..._ "I just-"

"Do you think I'm _stupid?_" Azula snapped. Jin froze. "Aside from the Dai Li, only a tiny handful of people know that I'm here. Who told that useless brother of mine, and what do you have to do with it?" She crouched down, meeting Jin's eyes. "Don't think you're saving them by keeping quiet. I have eyes and ears all over this palace." Jin sat very, very still as Azula's outstretched palm burst into blue flames, mouth bone-dry. "Don't make it harder on yourself."

"I-It was Katara." Azula's eyes widened. "She told Zuko everything, and he-"

"Decided to play the hero." She finished, tone dripping with humoured derision. "Idiot." Azula flicked a gaze to the two prone girls who stood by the throne, noticing that Mai was visibly tense. "I'll finally get rid of him this time-"

"No!" It was an instantaneous reflex, one that Jin regretted in a heartbeat. Azula's head whipped around to meet her, frowning.

"You... _no." _Azula burst out laughing, Jin's heart sinking even further. "Oh, that is just _funny." _The Princess' chuckling faded as her eyes fell on the gold necklace around Jins' neck. "What..." She muttered, taking the pendant and yanking hard. Jin let out a cry of indignant protest as Azula held the necklace, staring at the ornately carved dragon. It was simple to put two and two together. Really, where else was a peasant from Ba Sing Se going to get a finely crafted necklace featuring a dragon? "Oh Zuko." She chuckled again, Jin feeling sick. "I'm almost not surprised." Azula straightened up, biting her lip hard in thought. _Everything is falling so perfectly into place... Agni is smiling on me today. I've got you now, Zuko._ She cast another quick eye at the peasant girl, who was looking very pale. _I can finally put you where you belong._ "I suppose it's all he's worth now." She eyed Mai carefully, watching her bristle. _Ugh. She still thinks well of him... She hasn't even __**seen**__ him since his banishment. What is wrong with her?_

_I'll ratify that right now._ She looked down at the pendant in her hand, smiling. She could take Zuko, probably without even breaking a sweat. Problem was, their damn uncle was with him, and he was a much more significant problem._ I need to break them up in order to crush them both... and who knows, Zuko may even be useful..._ Azula smirked at Jin, who was trying to summon her courage and inner strength._ Given the right motivation, he'll do anything I ask._ Oh, Zuko was just so _easy_ to get a handle on. _Desperate little whelp. _

"Oh, Mai." She summoned the taller girl, toying with the pendant in her fingers. Glaring down at Jin, incensed that a simple _peasant_ was the one to have what she desired, Mai approached Azula, smirking. "Can you run an errand for me?"

"Of course, Azula." Jin bowed her head, trying to regulate her breathing. _This isn't happening oh spirits this isn't happening it can't be. This whole thing... How..._

"Can you go fetch our dear Zuko for me?" She pressed the pendant into Mai's hand. "I'm sure he'll come running when he hears that his precious damsel is in distress." Jin's stomach tightened, the girl becoming swamped with the uncomfortable sensation of swallowing a lump of ice. _No. I can't let her do that!_

"Of course I- Ah!" Mai cried out in shock as she went flying, a wedge of rock hitting her hard in the stomach. Winded, she hit the floor with a hard _thump_, a good twenty feet from where she previously stood. Azula had been thrown a similar distance, the Princess catching a glimpse of green disappearing through the door as she righted herself.

"Ty Lee!" Her call rang through the throne room, but she needn't have bothered. The acrobatic girl had already begun to pursue the fleeing peasant, sipping nimbly through the doors. Getting to her feet with a wince of pain, suspecting a few cracked ribs, Azula heard a gasp in the hall, and a cry. A few moments later, Ty Lee returned to the hall with a smile. Jin was carried by two Dai Li agents who grasped her arms, completely paralyzed. Azula's own smirk widened as Jin was deposited rather unceremoniously at her feet, the Princess giving her a little kick of pure spite.

"So, the peasant can throw rocks." Fire-gold eyes narrowed. "Interesting. No matter, that's been taken care of. By the time you'll be able to move again, it'll be far too late. Mai, get going. Take those two with you." She referred to the Dai Li agents, who bowed deeply in response. The noblemans' repressed daughter nodded, Jin getting only a glimpse of her shoes from her slumped position on the floor. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, cursing her stupidity. _Why did I __**do**__ this? Why couldn't I have just stayed with Meng? Why did I have to come bursting in like this? _

"Are you sure it's a good idea to send Mai after him?" Ty Lee enquired cautiously, watching as Azula held a hand against her left side, perfect white teeth digging into her lower lip. The Princess was in obvious pain, but Ty Lee knew better than to broach such a subject, especially in front of the hostage who caused the damage. "I mean... You know she feels about him... And you're essentially bringing him to his death."

"Oh, I know." Azula swallowed, straightening herself entirely. Jins' eyes were glistening with tears. "I could have sent you, Ty Lee, but I know where your loyalties lie. I know you would betray anyone else in a heartbeat for me, no matter who it is. But Mai..."

"You're testing her?" Ty Lee was confused. "But... Why? It's _Mai._ She'd never betray _you_ Azula."

"Yes, yes, I know." She bent down, and grabbed Jin by the hair, the elder girl crying out in pain. "But she's unhappy with the situation, Ty Lee. She doesn't like what I'm doing. You know if things were different, if Zuko had been smarter, it could have happened. Her birth is high enough, her father is close enough with ours." Azula sighed, straightening a little, Jin forced to her paralyzed knees. "I just want to make _sure_ of where her loyalties lie. He's going to die, and she is going to be partly responsible for it." Jin's breath was little more than a strangled gasp, fraught with terror. "But I don't know what I'm going to do about _this_ one." Azula tugged harder on Jin's hair, forcing her head back. "Where are you from, peasant? Please tell me it's at _least_ the Middle Ring."

"L-Lower." Jin finally managed to breathe. Azula groaned.

"Oh, _Agni_. I almost want to keep you alive, so you can tell Father in person." Jin was scared, literally, out of her wits. She could barely think straight at all. "Do you think Zuko could rub salt any harder into the proverbial wound, Ty Lee? If it was a noblewoman, or at _least_ the daughter of a rich merchant, it wouldn't be quite so bad. But a peasant... That's just embarrassing. Funny, but embarrassing." Jin bore the insult silently, trying very hard just to breathe.

_Please Zuko._ She thought desperately. _Help._ It was horrible of her to _want_ him to come, and she knew it. But she didn't want to _die_. She refused to meet an untimely end at the hands of this psychotic _bitch,_ but due to her irrational, thoughtless behaviour, she had gotten herself stuck in this _mess_ and as far as she could tell, there was no way of escaping, not while she was a prisoner of her own paralysis.

_Iroh was right._ Jin realised with a fresh wave of nausea, screwing her eyes up tight. _Azula did ger her handle on Zuko, after all._

* * *

_All right. Calm down, deep breaths, keep your back straight and look like you're meant to be here._

Meng licked his dry lips as he walked along the ornate passage, pushing the ornately-carved trolley in his hands. Made of the finest oak, and bearing a massive covered silver platter, it was laden with an array of fine, delicate foods. Sweetmeats, cuts of cold meat, glazed vegetables, thinly-sliced fruit, and other tasty treats Meng couldn't even identify were hidden under that massive silver lid, and it made his mouth water with jealousy. _So much good stuff there... He won't even finish half of it. What a damn waste. He could feed our family for a month for the same cost of that one meal._ Good old class distinction. It's how it always was in Ba Sing Se. The top had everything, the bottom nothing. It was a futile waste of energy to feel anger, hatred, or even exasperation towards it.

_That's gotta be it._ The green doors were at least eight feet high, edged with gold, and more importantly, flanked by two Dai Li agents. Mengs' heart sank.

_Dai Li?_

His chest strangely tight, palms sweating, Meng continued his walk towards the double doors that led to the Earth Kings' chambers. He kept his back straight, head erect. The silken sleeves of the servants' robe fell to his knuckles, the arms a little too long. The servant he had essentially mugged had been a good four inches taller, his shoes hopelessly too large. He had ditched them for bare feet, the hem of the robe hiding his grimy toes. Every part of him was grubby and dirty. He had licked a serviette and wiped the worst of the grime off his face, eyeing himself critically in the smooth surface of the spotless silverware, and pulled the greasy shoulder-length tangles from his face, binding the locks with a silken ribbon. It was going to be hard to pull this off, act like a personal servant to the Earth King himself when he was a dirty prisoner, and he knew it. The daunting guard at the door only served to heighten his intense discomfort.

_Katara said that the Earth King had royal guards at his door..._

Heart hammering in his chest, Meng stood before the Dai Li agents, knuckles white under the silk. They eyed him, looking bored. The doors were pushed open a moment later, Meng slowly pushing his cart through into the large chamber. As the doors slid closed, the young mans' breath caught in his throat, eyes as large as saucers as he stared at the room. It was _huge_, at least five times the size of his family's entire flat, a myriad of plants, pots and statues, emerald draperies embroidered with gold, spindly, heavily cushioned furniture, with three tall bookshelves carved from rosewood, two double doors, leading to a bathroom and a wardrobe, and an impossibly large four-poster bed hung with green in one corner.

"Ah, Xin-Li, I was just wonderi..." With a look of surprise, Kuei lowered the book he was reading, eyebrows shooting skywards rapidly. "Who are you?"

"Y-Your Majesty." Meng released his grip on the wooden cart, rushing over to the King. "I don't have much time to explain," Kuei's eyes widened at the sight of the grubby young man, trying to pass himself off as one of his personal servants. "We have to go _now_, before they-"

"What are you _talking_ about?" The elder of the pair rose from the heavily cushioned recliner, a frown etched deep into his features. "Are you insane? What did you do to Xin-Li? G-Guards, there's a lunatic in my-_mph!"_ He shouted indignantly as his voice was muffled by Mengs' trembling hand.

"Listen to me." He spoke quietly, his voice shaking slightly. "I know this is weird. I know you don't believe me, I hardly believe it myself. But you have to trust me. Your entire palace is under an internal siege. The Dai Li have revolted, under the command of the Fire Princess Azula. She's infiltrated the castle, disguised as a Kiyoshi warrior. She plans to capture and imprison you and your five High Generals at noon today. The only way you can get out of here is if you follow me." He let go of the Earth King reluctantly, watching him huff as he straightened his robes. "If you don't believe me, then open those doors." Meng pointed. "Beyond them, you won't find your normal guard. You'll find Dai Li agents. They're here to make sure that you don't try to escape."

"You... Certainly you must be joking." Kuei spoke faintly, holding a hand to his head. "I can't... How..."

"I wish I was." Meng cast an eye to the door, anticipation growing. "Please Your Majesty, we have to go _now_, of they'll wonder what's taking so long."

"This is a trick." Kuei said firmly. "A plot, cooked up by a group of rebels. How is the Princess of the Fire Nation going to infiltrate these wonderful walls? Tell me, sirrah, do you think that I would not have been warned of something this great?" Mengs' heart sank even further. "Guards!" He called firmly, Meng backing away slowly. "Guards, quick!" He ran to the double doors, pulling at them frantically. "A rogue has... in..." Kuei froze in the doorway at the sight of the two Dai Li agents, wearing an identical cold stare. "_No."_

"Shit." Meng cursed under his breath, eyeing the exits, planning the fastest escape route. He was _hoping_ for something a little more... covert, but he'd been in stickier situations before, and had made it out in one piece. _Although I'm more than a little rusty... And I get the feeling his Majesty isn't quite up to a close escape..._

"What is going on?" Kuei demanded, hands on his hips. "I never ordered you here! Where are my guards? I demand you return to your original post!"

"Deepest apologies, Your Majesty." They had ignored Meng for the minute, the young man fleetingly considering an escape without the Earth King, abandoning the thought as quickly as it arose. "But we're under orders to make sure you stay in your chambers. There's an unfortunate political situation at the moment. This is for your own safety, Your Majesty."

"What is going on?" Kuei's voice was desperate, the authoritative tone slipping away. "What are you doing to my Kingdom?" The Dai Li agent to the left opened his mouth to speak, a sneer on his lips and cold glint of disdain in his eye, but before a syllable passed his lips, Meng struck, sending a piece of the highly polished marble floor flying straight towards his chest. The force of the blow sent the agent flying, crashing through a paper screen, knocking over a spindly end table containing a vase of lilies, and finally crashing into a large earthenware pot against the wall, sliding to the floor, where he lay in a crumpled, unmoving heap. The remaining Dai Li agent started, turning his cold stare on the former prisoner. Meng gasped, and managed to fend off the mans' stone gloves, trepidation escalating. _Ooh, I've gotten myself into it now... Shit, I can't beat these guys face to face._

What happened next became something like an urban legend amongst Ba Sing Se, dismissed by many as an utter falsehood, Kuei himself admitting that the entire thing was a fluke, an adrenalin-charged moment of valour. He grabbed the statuette which resided on the low, long table before his reading couch. Made of solid gold, it was somewhat eccentric birthday gift from King Bumi, depicting a ridiculously spindly tree, amassed with a flock of birds instead of leaves. With all of his might, Kuei struck the preoccupied Dai Li agent across the back of his head, the man collapsing to the floor with a muted groan.

"N-_Now­_ do you believe me?" Meng panted after a moment of stunned silence, the statue making a loud _thump_ as it was dropped to the floor. Kuei blinked behind his glasses, eyes locked on the prone figure, the back of his head already wet with blood. After a long moment, he lifted his head to the other male, nodding in stunned silence. "Great." Meng stepped forward, seizing the King by the sleeve of his morning robe. "Time to go." He pushed Kuei out the door quickly, pausing on the threshold to stare at the two crumpled bodies.

_Wonder if the others are having just as much fun_. Meng thought wryly as he pulled the large doors closed, shutting out the grisly scene.

* * *

Woot!

At least, I think.

Next chapter will be MUCH sooner. I suspect (hope) a week, but we shall see :D

Review my pretties! :3


	17. Chapter 17

I...

Yeah. I am so so so sorry it took so long. No excuses I know ;-;

But I made it up to you. A little. This baby is FOURTEEN THOUSAND words long. Which is like, triple the length of my earlier chapters, so hopefully it kind of cancels out the lateness? Maybe.

Disclaimer: I own nothing here. Bwahahaha, aren't you jealous?

Anyways, hope you enjoy my exciting AKTSHUN CHAPTUR!

* * *

Her feet were cold.

Perhaps it was the shoes. The soles were thin, made of cloth and not made for long distances, like the hard-wearing boots of the Kiyoshi warriors, or her own shoes. She could probably feel the cold marble of the floor through the thin ceremonial shoes.

_Yeah right._

Mai kept her face as passive as ever. It was so _easy _forher – after all, she'd had years of practise from her mother, countless hours of sitting up straight, elbows tucked in, mouth kept shut, eyes lowered, face neutral, hands clasped, knees together, and Agni knew what else it took to keep perfect etiquette, that maintaining a cool facade of indifference became second nature to her, an idiosyncratic expression she fell into –whether she liked it or not.

_And I thought it was always just an expression._ But they were _freezing. _In fact, goosebumps had broken out upon her skin some time ago. The hall was large and unheated, the sun hadn't yet peaked high enough to penetrate the high windows and let in any warmth. She wondered if the Dai Li that flanked her, walking barefoot, had toes as icy as hers. _Probably not_. Mai mused idly. Her concealed knives against her skin felt like slabs of ice. _I wish they would go away._ The soft scraping of stone against marble as they walked made her skin crawl. _I don't need them. I can take care of myself against those kids. _

They weren't there for protection, and she knew it. They were there to watch her. To see what she was going to do and relate every detail to Azula. If there was one flicker, one moment where for the barest second it looked like Mai would weaken and warn Zuko as opposed to luring him to his sister, Azula would hear about it. _She doesn't entirely trust me. I don't blindly follow her like Ty Lee. _

_But I can't be responsible for this._ Her mouth was dry. _I know what's going to happen to Zuko if he's caught. And... It's beyond disturbing. I can't sleep at night because I'm too scared to have more nightmares about it. _She'd had three so far, each more horrible than the last, leaving her in a cold sweat, biting down on a pillow, or her sleeve, so Azula couldn't hear her stricken gasps. _I don't want any part in this, I don't want to help Azula if it means leading Zuko to his death! _

_But if I go against her, then I'll join him on the chopping block._ Mai forced down a convulsive tremor. She _wanted_ to believe that her longest, closest friend wouldn't do something so merciless, but Azula had never been a forgiving soul. _Not for something like that... I'd be betraying her for Zuko..._ And knowing how edgy Azula had always been on the subject, as even though the younger girl was better than her brother in every single way, she was somehow overshadowed, simply because she was the second-born and of the wrong gender... To put him first would be a death sentence. _I can hear them._ She paused, hearing a set of panicked voices reverberate around the halls. The Dai Li had sent message of where they had last been seen, in one of the lower hallways, heading towards the east wing, to the Avatar. Something churned freshly, uncomfortably, in Mai's stomach at the thought. Even she was ready to admit that Azula had dealt a bit of a low blow.

_There._

"Hello." She kept her face smooth, blank expressionless. Five figures froze, turning to greet Mai with a collective gasp.

"What do you want?" Katara was the first to shout, nerves worn down to the bone. "Haven't you done enough?"

"I'm not here to fight." Ash-grey eyes sought out Zuko, stomach tightening as her gaze settled on his scar. "I have something for you, Zuko."

"What?_"_ The teenager pushed himself forward, recognising Mai in an instant. _She hasn't changed a bit..._

"Azula wants to see you." She started to walk, keeping her motions slow and unthreatening. "Alone."

"Why." Zuko's stomach tightened. "So she can take me down herself? I'm not going near her alone."

"Zuko, what's this?" She pulled up short in her walk, extracting the necklace from a pocket in her dress. Mai held the pendant by the broken chain, the jade-backed dragon plainly visible.

"_No."_ He raised his hand to his trembling mouth, ears ringing, feeling numb. "Y-You didn't..."

"As long as you listen to Azula, she'll be fine." Mai though it prudent not to mention that she was already paralysed. "If I were you, I wouldn't test her patience."

"Where are they." Zuko stepped further forward, visibly trembling. "In the throne room?" Mai gave no indication that she had heard him speak, only turned on her heel, beginning to walk away. "Mai!"

"Come." It was a simple command, a short, staccato syllable rolling off her tongue. Gasping, Zuko began to run after her, heart little more than a lump of ice.

"Zuko!" Iroh protested firmly, the teenager freezing in his walk. Mai stilled, and turned slowly, one eyebrow slightly arched. "Please my nephew, don't do it. You are walking to your death." The elderly man couldn't see Zuko's reaction like Mai could, didn't see how he chewed on his bottom lip, eyes downcast. He was weighing things up in his mind, a rough, token gesture, Mai could tell. He had no intention of leaving the peasant girl in Azula's clutches. _He loves her._ An ill revulsion blossomed in the pit of her stomach.

Wordlessly, Zuko resumed his erratic pace, eyes locked with Mai. She held the gaze for a few moments before she could no longer bear it, turning her back on the shocked group and falling into step beside Zuko. Their walk was silent, an on Mai's part, somewhat awkward. What the hell was she meant to say? _Sorry the girl you love has been taken hostage and I'm helping?_ The remorse had consumed her stomach, leaving behind a twisted, pained wreck. _I'll help you, somehow. Azula won't kill you today, perhaps I could break out you later... We could escape._

_Mai!_

It was a good thing Zuko wasn't looking at the girl, for her pallid cheeks had flushed with a little colour. She cast a sidelong look at him, eyes lingering once more on his scar. She hadn't been there when it happened of course, but she had visited him later, the night before he left, sneaking in past the guards when it was very late. She thought that he would have been asleep, but he was awake, fully dressed and standing beside the dying fire in the iron grate. She gasped when she first saw him, with the shaved head and mass of bandages, and Zuko recoiled at her reaction. She could still remember every word of their short conversation beside the fire, Zuko consumed with shame and self-loathing, Mai trying so hard to console him, but unable to find the words.

_I should have said something._ Yeah, like that would have made any difference. Mai fought back the urge to roll her eyes, emitting a low sigh. _He wouldn't have cared, not Lafter what he'd just gone through. _

_I need to let go. Stop thinking about maybe and what might happen and possible chances. They're not going to happen. Look at him, he's not the same as he was. It's not just the scar and the age. He's switched sides. I saw the expressions of the others. They were almost protective of him. It's a little shaky, but he fits in there. Not with us, in the Fire Nation. Not with his father and Azula. _ Mai closed her eyes for a moment, exhaled deeply, and opened them once more. Zuko hadn't noticed.

"Is she really okay?" Zuko's voice cut through the tense silence. Mai looked over at the teenager, realising he was looking at her. She opened her mouth to speak, finding it too dry, and swallowed.

"Yes." Mai said eventually. "Azula hasn't hurt her. She wants to, but she won't." Mai clutched at the jade necklace in her pocket, jealousy rising. _After nearly fifteen years of being perfect... He chooses a peasant._ She couldn't envision a bigger slap in the face.

"Why the hell was she there..." Zuko muttered, more to himself than to her, shaking his head.

"She heard about the Avatar." Mai explained helpfully. "Went to find and warn you." She let the sentence end there, extracting the necklace from her pocket. "Here." She held it out to Zuko, the boy taking it carefully. "You shouldn't have picked a dragon. Azula knew right away that you were the only person who could have possibly given it to her." Zuko hid it in one of his pockets wordlessly, staring blankly ahead of himself.

The rest of the walk was silent. Mai continued to shoot subtle glances in Zuko's direction, hoping to catch a flicker, a change in emotion. Zuko's face bore the same expression however; the perpetual fear, confusion, and a crease in the forehead illuminating that he was struggling to compose some sort of plan, a scheme to make sure that he left with not only his own life and liberty, but that of Jin's. _Say something!_ She screamed inwardly. _Do something!_ Mai couldn't stand his silence, was unable to believe that he was walking into this so easily. Didn't he think what was going to happen? _He trusts her... To some extent, he actually believes that if he obeys her, then his peasant girlfriend will be okay. Azula always lies, Zuko! Always! You know that better than anyone!_

What Mai wasn't aware of, was that the exact same thought was rattling uncomfortably around in Zuko's mind – He had to go to Jin, there was no way around that. He didn't think for a second about leaving her there at the mercy of his sister – He literally could not think of a worse end for the poor girl. _I knew I would get her in some sort of trouble... But not like this, never like this..._ Zuko toyed with the necklace in his pocket. _And all she was doing was trying to warn me... She tried to help me and in return Azula has her held hostage._ He tried to swallow, but his mouth was so sickeningly dry that the reflex stuck in his throat, tongue grating almost painfully against the roof of his mouth. _What do I do... I can't get her out. Not with Azula there, she'd sooner kill us both. I could try and bargain something... Just so she'll go free... But Azula would never keep her side of the deal. She's too crooked, too underhanded_. Her fight with Aang earlier that morning had shown that much. He could try and take Azula down himself, but with her support of Dai Li agents (not to mention Mai and Ty Lee) Zuko would be easily flattened in less than a minute.

_Guess I'll just have to play it by ear. _They had reached the main hall, the vast double doors leading to Kuei's throne room firmly closed. _Hope the spirits are on my side today, and not Azula's. _

"Go right ahead." Mai spoke softly, withdrawing from the small cluster of human bodies outside the door. Zuko didn't notice. A further insult to her pride, Mai took the unintentional snub silently, backing away from the group, eyes locked on Zuko's figure, before she turned and fled, hand trailing along the stone wall in the desperate search for a door, a corner, something to escape into. She found a small alcove, which probably held a statue once upon a time, but now stood empty. Mai pressed her back against the stone, sliding down until she rested on the balls of her feet, crouching. She was trembling, palms sweaty.

_What have I done..._

Zuko could not have such luxuries. He stepped forward, pushed open the double doors with his back straight, head erect. Azula wasn't going to get the better of him.

_Not this time._

"Well, hello Zuzu." Azula, who had sprawled out rather comfortably on the cushioned throne, stood up slowly, taking her time as she walked down the small flight of stairs. "Such a pleasure it is to see you again."

"Cut it Azula." Zuko's eyes roved about the room, landing on Jin, who stood near the throne, supported by two Dai Li agents. She kept her eyes locked on the Prince, heart thudding, weak with relief. Jin would have said something if she could, but words utterly failed her. Although she at first looked to be standing, Zuko noticed that her only her toes touched the floor, her slender frame limp. His stomach clenched painfully in shock, the boulder sinking further when he saw her right hand was covered in blood. "What did you _do_ to her?"

"Nothing lasting." Azula murmured, bringing Zuko's attention back to her. He glared at his sister, shaking. "At least, not yet."

"What do you _want."_ The teenager kept on his guard, keeping his hands close to the Dao swords at his waist. "To kill me? To capture me? What?"

"So little faith, Zuko." She murmured quietly, as if to herself. "Did it ever occur to you that I might be trying to _help _you?"

"What?" Zuko was dumbstruck. "What are you talking about? When have you _ever _helped me?" He shook his head. "Let Jin go, Azula. She's done nothing to you!"

"Why would I want to do that?" Azula raised her eyes to the ceiling. "Zuko, shut up and listen to me for five minutes. And _think_, for the first time in your life." His glare at her was icy. "What are you going to do? Really? The Avatar is dead. His pathetic friends will quickly be dealt with. Ba Sing Se will be mine before the sun sets. How are you going to singlehandedly stop me?"

"I-I-"

"Face the facts Zuko. You lost, before you even begun the fight. You were always going to lose." Azula have a long, exaggerated sigh. "You don't have to face the same sticky end as the others, Zuko." She began to walk again, a smirk curling her lip. "There is hope for you, you know."

"That's a lie." Zuko spat. "I'm not falling for your tricks Azula. Not for a second time. You've tried that before, remember? Saying that Father forgave me, wanted me home? You can't fool me again!"

"You don't get it, do you?" She stared at him coolly, mind ticking away. "Oh, Zuzu. You can stand there until your blue in the face swearing your loyalty to the Avatar, but we both know the truth. We both know where your heart deeply, truly lies." Jin blinked back tears, an odd ringing in her ears. _She's wrong! She's got it all wrong! Zuko __**has**__ changed! He's a completely different person to who he once was! _

"Get to the point, Azula." Zuko clenched his hands into fists, a nerve in his temple twitching.

"Father doesn't have to know what really happened today." Azula said. "He doesn't have to know about your... slip-up." Zuko stilled. "In fact, I could spin him an entirely new series of events." Eyes as bright as burning coals narrowed. "Including the fate of the Avatar."

"What?" Zuko frowned, not yet understanding Azula's insinuation. "What do you mean?"

"Ugh, you are a dunce." She muttered in exasperation. "I'll lie, Zuko. I'll tell Father that _you_ killed the Avatar." His eyes widened, knees weakening. "That's what you want, isn't it? It's what you've _always_ wanted."

"E-Even so." He tried so hard to banish the tremor from his voice, but it was there. Azula heard it plainly. "It's not just that, Azula. No amount of lies can ever undo my treachery." Jin's heart was tearing in two. _He was tempted_.

"Not true." Azula said, sounding surprisingly light-hearted. "Fathers' main concern with you is the issue of loyalty. He wants to know where you stand. Whose side you are on." Azula paused, toying with a strand of hair. Zuko opened his mouth to interject, but before a sound could pass his lips, Azula began to speak again. "Confusing as it may sound, I have much to gain from your return. You know that without a son, our father would be forced to either remarry, or choose a husband for me to rule after his death. Do you think I want either? Do you think our father wants to come to such a compromise?"

"Oh, come off it." Zuko snarled. "He _never _intended for me to be the next Fire Lord. My banishment was just an excuse to get rid of me. He's wanted me out of the way ever since Mo- Since he became Fire Lord." Zuko caught himself quickly, breath hitching at he mention of his mother. Azula noticed the pause, and smiled.

"Politics was never your best subject, was it Zuzu?" Azula sighed, shaking her head. "Do you think our father that petty? Do you fail to understand the importance of a first-born son? Producing an heir is the primary focus of the Fire Lord. You saw how harshly Grandfather Azulon fought for our pathetic Uncle, despite his miserable failure."

"I think Dad's shown how little he cares for the rights of the first-born son." Zuko shot back. "Or did you forget how he usurped the throne?"

"Careful, Zuko." Azula warned her brother. "I'm trying to give you an out here. You will be brought to the Fire Nation. But do you want to be in chains, awaiting a long, miserable, and humiliating end, or do you want to return with your head held high, honour restored, facing a long life of wealth and glory?"

"Based on a lie?" Zuko said cuttingly. "Are you _serious_, Azula?"

"Well, it's not entirely a lie." Azula relaxed her stance slightly. He was weakening. "I need you to do one simple thing for me, to prove not only your loyalty, but skill. I know you have both, but I require proof, understandably. And besides, you would do me _such_ a favour."

_She's insane._ Zuko swallowed. _There's no way that I would do anything for her! I won't! Not in a million years, I-_

_Be careful._ He reminded himself. _I'm not in a position of power here. I have to play her game. If she thinks me to still be the pathetic weak-willed child, then that's what I'll be. The more power she thinks she has over me, then the higher my chance is of escaping._

_Besides..._ He cast a desperate look at Jin. _I can't give her a reason to hurt Jin. And she won't, not while she's trying to rein me in..._

"What do you want me to do?" Zuko returned his gaze to Azula, wiping his sweaty palms on his tunic. The girls' smile widened.

"The water-tribe girl." Zuko's eyes widened. "Take her out."

"_What?"_ Zuko gasped. "Azula, you're not..."

"Oh, I am." She nodded. "I'm deadly serious, Zuko. Get rid of her. Permanently." She stalked towards Jin, the brown-haired girl crying out as Azula grasped one of her braids, pulling down hard so her neck was exposed. The bottom dropped out of Zuko's stomach as Azula held up two fingers, a deadly, concentrated flame dancing on her fingers. "Understand?"

_No no no no no no_. Zuko's head was whirling. _I... how? How am I supposed to kill Katara? I can't! Never!_

_But if I don't, Azula will kill Jin._ Zuko knew it. _She'd know where my loyalties really lie. I'd be arrested and executed. _ The teenager closed his eyes, the tremors returning. _I don't have a choice..._

"Yes." Zuko whispered, his voice breaking. Jin let out a low moan, shaking her head. "I understand."

"No!" The green-eyed girl burst out. "Zuko, y-you can't –ah!" Zuko gasped as Azula hit the girl across the face, quivering in rage.

"Don't you dare." He growled, blood boiling. "Don't lay a _finger_ on her, Azula!"

"As long as she keeps her mouth shut, I won't." Azula gave the girl a poisonous glare, Jin's cheek stinging. The Princess released her hold on Jin's hair, however, stepping away from the girl. "I don't have all day, Zuzu."

"... Yes." Zuko nodded, the anger beginning to drain, chest cooling. The surge of protective anger was the nail in the coffin, washing out all of Zuko's doubt. He would not be responsible for Jin's death.

_Whatever the cost..._

"Good Zuzu." Azula smiled as the teenager left without another word, the door closing quietly behind him. "So pathetic."

"He is _not_!" A feminine voice behind Azula made her turn, nostrils flaring. "How can you _say_ that?" Jin was incensed. "You're lying to him, forcing him to murder someone to prove his loyalty!"

"Shut _up." _Azula hissed, fists flaring. "Keep your mouth _shut_ you filthy peasant, or so help me Agni-"

"Azula!" Ty Lee cut on, leaping gracefully from her place to the right of the throne, where she had stood, watchful and silent, for so long. "Don't, she's just trying to wind you up."

"... Right." Azula calmed at the sensation of Ty Lee's hand on her arm, stepping back. Jin let out a long breath, opening her eyes after screwing them up in terrified anticipation. "No matter." Azula muttered, rearranging her bangs again. "If Zuko returns, I'll be very, very surprised."

"What do you mean?" Ty Lee enquired curiously, a nervous feeling building in her stomach. She'd never had anything against Zuko, and in fact, actually quite liked him.

"I doubt he has the skill to kill that peasant." Azula mused. "Or the stomach." Jin gulped. "More than likely she'll finish him off." The Princess was looking thoughtful. "I was looking forward to relishing in his demise, but he's gone today, then it'll remove Uncle from the picture."

"How?"

"He'll be destroyed." Azula spoke so smoothly, so easily. "You have no idea how much hope he's placed into that foolish brother of mine. Without Zuko, Uncle Iroh is nothing." She smiled again. "They thought that they could spoil our plans? How pathetic." Azula returned to the throne, crossing one leg over the other. "When will they learn that I don't lose?"

"I don't know, Azula." Ty Lee spoke quietly, feeling just a little unsettled. "I don't think they'll ever learn."

* * *

"_Aang."_

Once more, Sokka had to support his younger sister as she threatened to collapse, knees bending. He guided Katara, supporting her as she staggered to the stone block on the middle of the room. It looked like a tomb. The only light came from a slit in the wall, the room sunk into deep shadow, the sole furniture the crude stone slab. Iroh lit a flame in his hand, quickly approaching the still figure which lay in the centre of the room, the front of his clothes soaked with blood. He pressed his free hand against Aangs' forehead, then his chest, sighing deeply in relief.

"He's alive." His voice was hoarse, the two short words earning a low gasp from Katara, who groped anxiously for the amulet about her neck. "Just."

"I-I hope this works." Katara breathed, the others gathering around her as she extracted the tiny amount of water and gathered it in her hand. It glowed brilliantly, a dazzling sheen of silver reminiscent of the moon. She pushed aside the tattered remnants of Aang's shirt, pressing her glowing palm flush against the open wound. Eyes closed, Katara summoned every ounce of strength she had, desperately willing for the magical water to work. Without a doubt, it was the most horrific injury Katara had ever seen. The lightning had burned away a hands-breadth of skin, shattered four rib-bones, one of Aangs' lungs ruined, the surrounding muscles a blackened mess. Azula had missed his heart by a mere few inches, Katara noted, slowly closing her eyes.

_Please please please please please please please please __**please**__..._

Aang groaned.

There was a collective gasp around the room, as everyone, even Toph, leaned forward in anticipation. Katara slowly shifted her hand, the water absorbed by Aang's broken body in its entirety. She took Iroh's wrist, lowering the flame so she could examine the partially healed wound in a better light.

"Did it help?" Toph breathed, clutching Sokka's hand for the sheer want of something to hold on to.

"... Yes." Katara dared to smile for half a second. "His lung... It's working again. H-He can breathe. The rest is... It'll need healing, but..." She wiped at her eyes. Aang was still unconscious – the groan probably a reflex – But it was a sound, an indication of life. "W-With a bit of luck, h-he'll be okay."

"Excellent." The happiness was obvious in Iroh's voice. "Now. I don't mean to rush, but..."

"Yes, of course." Katara tentatively scooped Aang in her arms, cradling his head against her shoulder. "We have to go." She straightened, turning. The small group left the tiny tomblike room, clustering in the hallway. "General Iroh... What did you want to do about Zuko?"

"... I'll go and get him." He murmured after a moment of thought. "But it's a delicate situation. Azula has somehow captured Jin and is holding her as a hostage. Remember that my nephew is meant to be alone with her." Iroh scratched at his beard. "I don't like this..."

"Look, I don't wanna sound like a jerk, but Aang is kind of the most important thing here. Getting him to safety is the top priority."

"Oh yeah Sokka? How about we leave you alone to suffer Azula?" Toph shot back. "You're right. You _do_ sound like a jerk."

"No, I just-"

"No, you have a point." Iroh sighed, rather darkly, to Sokka. "To be honest, if Zuko didn't face such a terrible fate if he were captured, I would consider leaving him to fend for himself. But..." Iroh shook his head. "You have to understand. I can't leave him."

"We do." Toph spoke quickly, before Sokka could. "And if the worst comes to worse, we can..." She trailed off, frowning.

"We can what?" Sokka pressed after a short silence. "Toph?" She held up her arm to silence them, frown deepening.

"Zuko's coming." Toph announced, curling her toes. "And... He's heavy-footed. And I mean more so than usual."

"But he's with Azula." Sokka interjected. "Why the heck would he be here? Wouldn't she have, I dunno, burned him alive or shot lightning at him or something?"

"I'm not sure." Iroh said carefully, watching Zuko very closely as the teenager emerged into the hall from around the corner. "How did things go, my nephew?"

"I escaped." Toph froze. "Listen, we all have to get out of here, and quickly. I managed to hold Azula off and run out, but she sent some Dai Li agents after me. They'll be here any second. We have to move."

"What about Jin?" Iroh ventured, the frown carved into his face deepening. "Is she all right?"

"I don't know." Zuko swallowed, heart thudding. "She managed to escape from the others as well. They didn't know she was an earth bender and she was able to get away." Toph bit her lip. Zuko's heart was already beating so fast, from what, she was unable to tell, and the picture she received from her feet was fuzzy, slightly indistinctive. Her chi paths were still not entirely clear. But she was _sure_ that he was lying. "We can't escape from here without Azula's interference. Some of us have to hold her off, while the others get Aang out of here." Zuko's eyes lingered on the slim figure in Katara's arms. His face was chalk-white, limbs completely limp, but the almost indistinguishable rise and fall of his damaged chest showed that he was alive. _Thank Agni. There is hope yet._ The young Prince swallowed, his mouth as dry as sand.

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Katara said grimly, voice trembling. "She's going to pay for this, I _swear_." Something in Zuko's chest tightened. At least she was going to come willingly. He was mentally preparing for a long argument to try and convince Katara to part with Aang and join him.

"Do you want me to come with you my nephew?"

"No!" Zuko burst out a little too forcefully, wincing. "I mean, that's not a good idea Uncle. You need to protect Aang. He's the most important thing right now."

"Zuko's right." Toph bit her lip. "I'm not completely clear yet. Don't trust me to hold off all the Dai Li by myself."

"All right." Iroh conceded, examining his nephew very closely. Something wasn't sitting right with this. It seemed... off. Why was Zuko so adamant to approach Azula without him again?_ She may have gotten to him..._ _He might be laying a trap for us..._

_Spirits, what am I thinking!_ Iroh admonished himself. _Not Zuko. I know where his loyalties truly lie. He knows it himself. He wouldn't betray us for Azula. Not now that he has seen the truth. _The elderly General closed his mind to the possibility of Zuko betraying them all. He could not believe that his nephew could possibly be capable of it, not after everything he had done.

"What about Jin?" Katara spoke up. "She's somewhere in the palace... Shouldn't we look for her or something?"

"She'll be all right." Zuko sounded a little more dismissive than he liked, insides immediately flaring with guilt. "I mean, she's an expert in sneaking in and out of places just like this. She can make her way out undetected. She knows to get out of here at all costs, alone or not."

"... All right." Katara nodded. "Sokka, take Aang for me." Her brother nodded, stepping forward to receive his body. She transferred Aang carefully, as though he were made of paper-thin glass, her touch lingering on his warm skin. _Please be okay..._

"Get her." Sokka said simply, cradling Aang close to his chest. Crippled with guilt, the teenager couldn't bring himself to look down on Aang. _This is my fault... If I didn't go and try to play the hero..._

Katara nodded wordlessly, turning to Zuko, who had already started to walk back in the direction he had come, unable to look his Uncle in the eye. The three watched him go, Toph still trying hard to distinguish the pattern of Zuko's hearbeat, and whether it stemmed from lying.

"Something's not right." Iroh muttered the moment Zuko was out of earshot. "It doesn't sound like Azula to just let him go. And he was far too dismissive about Jin. If she really had escaped, his first priority would be to find her. You saw how he dropped everything and rushed to help her."

"I think he was lying." Toph spoke up, deep in thought. Sokka's stare shifted from the ageing man to the young girl, something swirling uncomfortably in his stomach. "I can tell when people are, their heartbeat spikes. But Zuko's heart was already racing from fear..."

"What is he leading my sister into?" Sokka interjected, voice rising in panic. "Is he trying to trap her?"

"I... I think so." Iroh murmured, voice heavy with regret. "But I-"

"You said he had changed!" The young male burst out aggressively. "You said he was good! This was all an act, just to trap us!" Sokka started to back away. "How can we trust _you?_ H-How do we know you're not working for Azula!"

"Sokka, shut _up."_ Toph snapped. "General Iroh is on our side. Always has been. Look, Zuko's just confused. And if you ask me, Azula's probably holding that Jin girl as a hostage. If Zuko doesn't do what she says, then..." She made a slicing motion across her neck.

"Okay." Sokka had calmed – slightly. "So, if that's true, then what? How can we stop them from hurting my sister?"

"I'll take care of it." Iroh said carefully. "You two worry about getting out of here. And listen – you must be prepared to leave without Katara, if the worst comes to the worst."

"Wh-what?" Sokka's face was ashen. "I'm not leaving without her! No way! She's my _sister_, I have to look after her! D-Do you think I would just leave her here?"

"Sokka, please-"

"I'm not leaving without Katara." Sokka was resolute. "A-And anyway, we need her to keep Aang alive. He'll die without her healing powers and we're too far away from the North Pole to get help from any other healer."

"... Half an hour." Iroh sighed after a moments' pause. "At the front steps of the palace. Are you able to summon your bison?"

"Hope so... Yes!" Sokka, who had been searching Aang's shirt, extracted the whistle in triumph, the bone-carved tool thankfully intact. "Half an hour, got it."

"Best of luck." Iroh inclined his head and neck in a short bow, before turning, making down the hallway in the same direction Katara and his nephew had traced a few minutes before.

"... Yeah." Sokka slumped against the wall, feeling sick. _Katara_... "I-If either of them hurt her..."

"Don't do this again, Sokka." Toph instructed, pressing her hand against the wall, feeling for any vibrations. "We're clear. We should try to head left, avoid the front of the palace, then make our way out the western entrance, and come out across the grounds. We'll be more exposed, but that way, we'll avoid Azula and her cluster of Dai Li agents."

"Sounds like a plan." Sokka slipped the bison whistle into his pocket, repositioning Aang gently in his arms. "It's okay, buddy." He said gently, giving his vacant face a fleeting gaze. "We'll get you to safety..." Heart swelling fit to burst, the water-tribe boy began to follow Toph, Aangs' deathlike face still burning in his mind.

* * *

"Zuko, what happened in there?"

They had been half running, half jogging as they made their way through the halls of the vast palace, Katara keeping on her guard, Zuko not caring. The Dai Li would know by now to leave them alone, that Zuko would take care of her.

'Take care of her'. The phrase sent a shiver down Zuko's spine. It had to be the most chilling euphemism ever derived. _Take care of her_. He pushed down the sickly swirling feeling that had flooded his stomach, threatening to rise in his chest.

"Oh..." He swallowed, the taste bitter. "Uh... It's hard to explain." It was impossible. Katara had paused in her jog, frowning. Zuko turned to face her, nails cutting so hard in his palms that he drew a few drops of blood. "I... Come here." He grabbed Katara by her arm, the girl crying out as she was dragged along the hallway, protesting loudly, and pushed into the closest available room, Zuko slamming the door and leaning against it with a long sigh.

"What is going _on?"_ Katara demanded, fear trickling like ice down her back. "Zuko... What's happening?"

"A trap." His eyes were closed, trying so hard to think while he was wracked with this guilt and confusion. Zuko heard her gasp, and was glad beyond all definition that there was no water about.

"_What?"_ He gasped, eyes flying open as Katara grabbed him by the front of his clothes, yanking him forward and down so they were eye level. "Who? Who is being trapped? Aang? My brother?"

"You." Zuko thought – hoped – that if he perhaps explained everything, and was convincing enough, Katara just might go along with the half-formed plan that was stewing in his head. She jumped back from the teenager, eyes impossibly wide. "Katara, I-"

"Y-You _bastard!_" It was the only time that Katara had ever allowed herself to swear. "How _could_ you Zuko! I let myself trust you!"

"Katara, you have to-"

"Are there Dai Li around?" She looked about the largish, well-lit chamber, some sort of drawing room, one of many that were lavishly furnished and never actually used. "Where's Azula?" Zuko was looking very, very pale. "Answer me!"

"There's... No Dai Li around." Zuko spoke. "Katara please, you have to listen to me. J-Jin's life is at stake." Katara paused, expression softening, just a little.

"Azula has her?" Zuko nodded. "What, are you meant to capture me or something?"

"No..." Zuko couldn't look at Katara. "Uh... She sent me to kill you." He heard her gasp, and gritted his teeth. "Look, I never intended to lay a finger on you, I swear! I-I just agreed so she wouldn't hurt Jin." Silence. "Please, I-"

"Zuko, look at me." Katara's voice broke harshly over his. He swallowed, the bitter taste increase, and slowly raised his head, and locked his gaze with the dark-haired girl. She studied his features, trying to gauge if he was lying or telling the truth. He'd never seen anybody look so shocked and betrayed before. Unfortunately, it was a look he would see again before the day was out. She shook her head slowly, covering her face with her hands and then raking them through her hair. "If you were going to do it, you wouldn't have told me, that's just stupid." Katara tried to reason with herself. "But... She'll kill Jin."

"I know." Zuko licked his bone-dry lips. "I... I have to trick her somehow... But it's Azula. It's so hard... Whatever I'll do, she'll see right through me. And her guard of Dai Li are too much, even with Uncle and the others... There's no chance."

"I-I could surrender." The girl suggested. "And then... try and break free when Jin has escaped and Azula is off guard..." She trailed off when she saw Zuko shaking his head. "What?"

"No." He looked up at the ceiling. "She wants you dead. And more than that, she wants me to do it."

"Why?" Katara was confused. "I mean... No offense at all, but I could probably beat you Zuko. She knows that."

"Loyalty." His voice was very quiet. "That's what she wants. If I do it, she'll give me credit for Aang's death."

"But he's not dead." Katara argued. "And he'll live, with proper care. Why would you want credit for that?"

"I don't want credit for _anything._" Zuko's voice was tight. "I don't want any of that, Katara. I'm done." She was regarding him with some suspicion. "It's true." He argued. "I don't want to be a Prince anymore. Not if it means being a sadistic tyrant like my father and sister. I'm not cut out for it." He was pleading with her by this stage, very aware that she did still not trust him. "I have changed Katara, I swear." She folded her arms, looking very troubled. "Help me save Jin. If she's hurt in this... I'll never forgive myself. I can't have her death on my soul. Please."

"... Do you have a plan?" Katara eventually spoke up, uncertainty still niggling in the back of her head. Zuko nodded slowly.

"You won't like it." He murmured. "I need your necklace."

"No!" Katara spoke instinctively, one hand shooting up to her neck. "Not Mum's necklace!"

"I knew you would say that." Zuko muttered. "Please, Katara. If I give her the necklace, it'll be like a symbol. She'll think that I killed you and took it as a token. I wouldn't drag your body about the place, not while the coup hasn't officially started yet."

"I don't care." Katara was stubborn. "I-I've already lost Mum's necklace to you before Zuko. I'm not letting that happen again!"

"I hardly stole it." Zuko frowned. "I found it on the prison ship... Look. Don't drag up the past, please." The begging tone had crept into his voice again. "I-I know how you feel about this-"

"No, you don't!" Katara quickly retorted. "You have no idea what it's like, _Prince_ Zuko! This necklace is all I have of Mum! It's my most prized possession!"

"... Yes, I do." Zuko took a deep breath, before fiddling with the front of his clothing, undoing the collar so he was able to reach inside his shirt. Katara paused when he pulled out a gold ring on a very long, fine chain. "I-I keep it on a chain... I'm so terrified that I'll lose it if it's just in a pocket."

"What is it?" Katara asked, watching Zuko turn the ring with his pale fingers. She noticed that it was adorned with a very large, very valuable, blood-red stone.

"My mothers' betrothal ring." Zuko looked down at it almost fondly. "She's been... gone, for a very long time."

"O-oh..." Katara was at a loss of what to say, how to comfort him. "I-I'm so sorry... How did it happen?"

"Dad did it." He said simply, hearing her gasp. It wasn't a stretch of the truth really, it was due to Ozai's lust for power and utter lack of compassion for his only son that had forced Ursa to murder, and then flee.

"H-His own wife?" Zuko nodded without a word, still looking down at the ring.

"No one's safe from him." He muttered. "Not even family." Katara's eyes widened in realisation as she looked at his scar, the unexplained mark, realising the bitterness in his tone. _No..._ Ice hardened in her stomach. _That's... Beyond sick... _"That's not the point." Zuko straightened, replacing the ring, which had been found in the royal grounds two weeks after his mother had disappeared, and given to him by a servant who pitied the boy and hated Ozai. "I know what it's like, to tie your mother to a piece of jewellery. Especially now I know I'll never go home and see all the pictures of her. But that's not true, losing your necklace isn't the same as losing your mother, Katara. You'll always have memories. I-I mean, you yourself are living proof she existed. You don't need the necklace to have that."

_Hypocrite._ Anger, fuelled by her stubbornness, flooded Katara's chest. _Then why don't you ditch that ring, if it's apparently so easy?_ Katara regretted the words as soon as they were inwardly spoken. _That's not fair... He would if he had to... And I still have Dad and Sokka and everyone else in the Southern Water tribe, too. Zuko really doesn't have anything. Just his Uncle..._

_... And Jin._

Katara traced her fingertips over the bone carving, feeling the patterned design that she had memorized after hundreds of saddened caresses. It had been her most treasured possession for as long as she could remember. After she had regained it, Katara swore that she would never part with her precious pendant, for as long as she lived. And just a few short months later, here she was, the ugly, inevitable truth presented in front of her. _It's not just Jin... If I don't escape from here, and the others are alone with Aang, he won't make it. He'll be too injured, and the North Pole is too far away to help. And I can't escape with the place crawling with Dai Li, knowing I've tried to make a run for it. If they think I'm dead, they won't be looking. I can escape and save Aang..._

With a long sigh, heart breaking, Katara began to undo the silken blue knot at the base of her neck.

* * *

"Ugh, this is _beyond _preposterous..."

_Right..._

"How could this have happened! I just had Long Feng arrested! The moment I expel one viper, another springs from the shadows..."

"Took you this long to get rid of him..." Meng shook his head sadly, one hand on Kuei's sleeve. The pair had taken a long, tedious, and _immensely _stressful route through the back quarters of the palace, and had reached the bowels of the castle, the housing of the sewers, the prisons, the quarters of the lowliest slaves. "Do you have _any_ idea how many lives he's destroyed?" They were walking slowly, clinging to the shadows, peering around each corner before daring to take another step. "Everyone knows someone whose gone missing." The young male muttered darkly, resuming his walk.

"I didn't know that!" Kuei was so defensive. "I didn't know anything! Long Feng kept everything from me. All I knew was that the Dai Li were protectors of our cultural heritage, keeping order."

"Yeah, they kept order all right." Meng's voice was poisonous. "By imprisoning half the city and brainwashing everyone else." He shook his head. "I'm sorry, but _how _could you not know?"

"I've never left the palace!" The young King shot back. "I only saw the outside once, with the Avatar, and that was just a few days ago. You can't blame me for this!"

"I know..." Meng rubbed at his eyes, so tired. "I'm sorry. I know it's Long Feng. I've met the bastard, I know what he's capable of. But you should have heard what they call you in the Lower Ring. You're not very popular, you know. Your Majesty." He added quickly, wincing.

"No Monarch is ever popular with the peasantry." Kuei waved his hand dismissively. "It's impossible to make everyone happy. There will always be a group of people at the bottom. Even if everyone was given an equal amount of resources, within a few years, we would return to our normal class distinctions. It's how society operates." He spoke sensibly, and almost word-perfect regurgitation of countless books written by learned men, read half-heartedly throughout his youth.

"We don't have to be so low." Meng argued. "In my family of seven, four of us worked long hours, and struggled to keep a roof over our heads. In what society is that ever fair?"

"All right!" Kuei was getting a headache. "Look... I know things are out of balance... But what do want me to do?"

"To _do?"_ Meng was incredulous. "You're the _King!_ Abolish the Dai Li, provide free education for everyone so they can have an equal start. Control the price of housing, it's spiralling out of control. Get rid of all your damn government officials, getting fat off our taxes and doing nothing. There is so much you can do..." He trailed off regretfully. "Guess it doesn't matter now though, does it? I mean, with the Avatar dead, and the Fire Nation in the palace itself..."

"I..." Keui's head was spinning, still struggling in vain to comprehend the events of the past hour. "I guess... what are you doing?" For Meng was pressing his ear against the stone, frowning.

"There's a room here. Many rooms." Satisfied, the male parted the stone wall, exposing enough cavernous darkness for the pair to slip through. Keui's heart settled in his throat as he entered the tiny room, an overpowering stench immediately smothering his nostrils.

"_Yeech!"_ He gasped, clasping a hand over his mouth. "What is that _smell?"_

"Sewerage." Meng closed the stone, plunging the pair entirely into darkness. The dim green candles that weakly illuminated the hallway beyond were cold and gloomy, but both males were quickly sore for the comforting flicker. "This goes right past under most of Ba Sing Se, and we'll end up at the outskirts of the Lower Ring. It's perfect. No one will know think to look for us in here, and we won't run into nasty surprises." He shifted the heavy lid as he spoke, the smell increasingly tenfold.

"_No."_ Kuei was firm. "I am _not_ going in there." The young man backed away, eyes watering. "Y-You cannot expect me to-"

"All right." Meng shrugged, the King wearing very on his ragged nerves. "Stay in here. Be captured by the Dai Li, sent to Azula, imprisoned, and eventually executed."

"It's all well for _you_," Kuei complained. "Judging by your appearance, you grew up surrounded by filth, but I-"

"I did _not." _Meng snarled, the insult snapping his last thread of patience. "My home might have been small, and a lot less fancy than this damn palace, but it was clean. And my Ma was damn proud of it. The reason I look like crap is because I have spent the past _four years_ locked up in prison, with no human contact at _all._"

"I-I'm sorry." Kuei sounded extremely shaken in the dark. "I-I just assumed-"

"That' we're all filthy mutts." Meng mumbled. "Yeah, I _assumed_ that was what you thought of us." He paused in the silence, shaking with anger. "Get in the sewer. Please. I've been entrusted to look after you. I _really_ don't want to have to tell people about how you were lost to the Fire Nation, because you couldn't stand to get a little filthy."

"... Oh, very _well._" The Earth King heaved a long, insufferable sigh, before gingerly approaching the rim of the manhole. "I suppose... If nothing else... It will make an amusing anecdote, years from now."

"Yeah. Amusing." Meng muttered, rolling his eyes in the gloom.

* * *

"Well well, there he is."

Azula leaned back in the solid gold throne with a smirk, flanked by Mai and Ty Lee, the former still red-eyed. Supported by two Dai Li agents, Jin's heart skipped a beat as Zuko entered the room, eyes locked on his face. His mouth was trembling, white-knuckled hands clenched around something blue.

"So, my brother?" Azula rose from her new throne, a smirk on her face. "I trust you were able to do as I was instructed?"

"It's done." Zuko stretched out his arm, holding one end of the necklace between his thumb and forefinger. The bone pendant, attached to the blue ribbon, stood out plainly, blood streaked across its elegantly carved surface, sinking into the grooves of the bone and staining the design red. Jin bowed her head, fighting the back the impulse to throw up. _He did it... He __**killed**__ her... For me... It... He can't have..._

"Well done." Azula clapped slowly, deliberately, golden eyes flashing. "Father will be very happy to hear of your remarkable act of heroism."

"Whatever." He threw the necklace to Azula, the Princess catching it deftly. "Let Jin go. I've done what you've asked of me." He was fighting back the very real urge to cry, Jin noticed. She longed to embrace him soothingly, try to console his tortured spirit, but at the same time, she was repulsed. He _killed_. And he had prided himself on never killing during a conversation they shared. That had been destroyed. The name _murderer_ hung on her lips like a foul poison, making her feel violently ill.

"And then what, brother?" Azula, who had pocketed the necklace, examined a fingernail. "We fight? A dramatic battle? Or are you going to swear allegiance to Father, renounce your loyalty to out traitorous Uncle, and take your rightful place at the Fire Lord's right hand?" She narrowed her eyes, reading his reaction. "Or maybe try and escape from here with your little peasant girl here?"

"I don't have a choice, do I?" Zuko's shoulders had slumped in defeat. "I was... It's been a long time since I've been home, Azula. Uncle got to me."

"Of course he did." The smile widened on her lips, but Azula's fire-gold eyes still retained that cold, calculating stare. "I knew you would come around, Zuko. You're weak. You always have been. Ever since Mother left, you've clung to whoever would give you to the most attention. It's sickening." Her lip curled in revulsion, Zuko's eyes remaining downcast. He couldn't look at Jin. Behind Azula, Ty Lee reached across, gripping Mai's wrist. The black-haired girl looked up from her shoes, ash-grey eyes swivelling to meet Ty Lee's, Mai trying to fight back tears. The youngest of the pair gave a small, reassuring smile, which was not returned. "This... _thing_ here is just another example." Azula shot Jin a withering glare. Zuko clenched his trembling fists, a fire raging in his stomach, but made no outward signal of recognition.

"Princess Azula!" The front doors were pushed open, a Dai Li agent standing on the threshold. "We captured one of the rebels." Zuko's stomach pained him. "We have General Iroh in custody. We cornered him in a hallway and he came quietly."

"Oh, _excellent._" Azula raised her left hand, snapping her fingers. On command, the Dai Li agents holding Jin parted the ground with their feet, the girl instantly disappearing from sight. Zuko cried out as she was swallowed up by the stone, heart leaping to his mouth. "Behave, Zuko." She murmured. "She could easily be crushed under tons of stone with just a flick of the wrist." Zuko held a hand over his mouth, shaking violently. "Send him in." Azula raised her voice. The Dai Li agent nodded, stepping out of the room. A moment later, Iroh was brought in, held by two agents and flanked by another four, in case he tried anything funny. He could have easily taken them all out if he wanted, but instead, he stood calmly, face still and impassive. "What a pleasant surprise, Uncle." Azula's fiery gaze flicked from Zuko to her Uncle. "What do I owe the pleasure?"

"I know what you are doing, Azula!" Iroh accused firmly. "Stop this now. Release Jin, cease blackmailing my nephew, and this can end peacefully."

"Oh, I hardly think you are in a position to make demands, Uncle." Azula waved her hand around the room, which contained at least a dozen Dai Li agents. "Besides, Zuko's not being blackmailed in the slightest, are you Zuko?" She smiled at him, eyes boring into his. The message was clear. _If you want her to live, you'll play along._

_No._ Zuko's knees were weak. _She wants me to lie to Uncle. She wants me to betray him. I can't! He... I can't do it..._

He thought briefly of Jin, entombed in stone beneath his feet, paralysed, in the dark. She would be terrified, scared out of her wits. It would be so easy for the Dai Li to end her life, and Azula wouldn't hesitate for a second. It could all be over for her in moments if he disobeyed his sister in the slightest. He couldn't let her die. He simply couldn't live with Jin's blood on his hands. Not her.

_Agni, forgive me._

"I couldn't partake in your pathetic charade any longer, Uncle." Zuko kept his tone bitter. "I _never_ wanted to join the Avatar. My destiny lies in helping my father to finish this War."

"Zuko-"

"That's_ Prince_ Zuko." He snapped, turning on his heel. "How _dare_ you address me disrespectfully, _traitor_." Zuko gritted his teeth, self-revulsion growing with every passing moment. "I'm not letting you drag me down with you, Uncle." Zuko glared coldly down at his Uncle, who looked as though his heart had shattered. His face had caved in, crumpled with shock and grief, shoulders slumped. Iroh had seemingly shrunken, seeming smaller, more aged than Zuko had ever seen him before. _I've killed him inside._ Zuko blinked back tears, swallowing hard.

"You failed, Uncle." Azula spoke scathingly, eyes narrowed. "You thought that you could change Zuko, turn him into a traitor like you. But you were wrong. Zuko knows what is best for himself, and his people." Zuko had looked away, unable to maintain his gaze upon Iroh's heartbroken face any longer.

"I know what is right." Zuko felt as though his ribs were made of rotten, broken beams of brittle wood, his chest collapsing in on itself. "Following my father is right. Taking my rightful place on the throne is right. Accepting _my_ destiny is right." He dared to look back at Iroh again, but the elderly man had bowed his head, seemingly sapped of his will.

"Take him away." Azula spoke up. "Lock him up in the most secure cell you can find." The six Dai Li agents bowed gently, before turning and leaving the throne room silently, taking a defeated Iroh with them. As soon as the door closed, Zuko fell to his knees with a low moan, head in his hands.

"You _bitch." _ He gasped, hyperventilating. "H-How could you... H-_How?"_

"Well, that was pleasing." Azula sounded smug. She signalled the Dai Li agents, and with a smooth shuffle of earth, Jin was brought back to the surface, a tearstained huddle on the floor, just able to affix her gaze on Zuko. "The water rat has been taken care of, Uncle is locked up, and the Avatar is dead. I couldn't have done this without you, Zuko."

"Shut up." He spat. "I am _not_ proud of what I've done. How... How _could_ you?"

"How could _I?"_ Azula approached Zuko, one eyebrow raised. "You're the one that hurt him so much, swearing your allegiance to Father and me."

"For Jin!" Zuko protested. "You would kill her otherwise!" He pitched forward on his hands, shaking madly. Jin closed her eyes, wishing for the umpteenth time that this was just a twisted nightmare. "Oh Agni... What have I done..."

"I hardly think you prize that peasant girl above Uncle." Azula said. "Admit it Zuko, there was truth in that. It felt good."

"No!" Zuko shouted, righting himself. "It _didn't_ feel good! It felt horrible! I lied to Uncle! The man who's been more of a father to me than Dad ever was! The one who actually _cares_ about me! Who is isn't using me as a pawn in their twisted plans!" He took a step towards Azula, jaw clenched. He couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't lie, couldn't pretend. He felt sick with self-loathing, enraged beyond reason with what he had done. What Azula had made him do. "I _lied_ Azula! I lied about everything! Uncle wasn't wrong, he was right! I was wrong! I don't _want_ to become Father's right-hand man! I-I don't want the throne! I don't want to be responsible for another drop of Earth Kingdom blood!"

"I knew it." Azula's eyes narrowed. "You're too self-righteous Zuko, too over-dramatic. So what, you were planning to leave with the Avatar today? Become his little firebending teacher?"

"Yes!" Zuko blurted, without even thinking. "I would join them in a heartbeat if it meant stopping _you!"_ His chest was heaving, cheeks wet with tearstains. "I _hate_ you, Azula! I came here with the intention of stopping you!"

"She's not dead is she?" Azula's eyes were now slits. "You've made a deal... You tried to trick me..."

"Yes!" Zuko was in a frenzy at this stage, thought processes panicked and fragmented. "She saved Aang in time! And she'll be taking him and the others' to safety! They'll be out of here already, somewhere where you can't get them!"

"_You._" Azula was infuriated that her inferior brother had attempted to trick her. "You little _worm!"_ Her hands flashed blue-white, the Princess sending a deadly accurate bolt of lightning towards her brother, a kill-shot, aiming for his heart. Jin let out a panicked cry from her position on the floor, watching the lighting envelop the teenager. Mai sank to her knees with a moan, Ty Lee dashing to her side and struggling to support her. Azula straightened herself, expecting to see her brother flung across the room from the sheer force of the lightning. Instead, he was standing firmly on his feet, his entire form crackling with the pure energy. Azula's heart sank like a stone as she realised what her brother was doing, backing away frantically.

He wasn't just absorbing the lightning, he was... _redirecting_ it.

It took every ounce of Zuko's strength to keep the lightning in his stomach, limbs shaking. It was _unbelievable_, the sensation of pure energy which coursed through his body. It was searing, white-hot, but at the same time, as cold and paralyzing as ice. It was nearly impossible to see, his vision blurred by the magnificent electricity that surrounded him. _Get rid of it!_ He commanded himself, pointing his right hand to the high arched ceiling. As the lightning left his body, a sizzling white bolt which crashed into the ceiling, Zuko sank to his knees, completely drained. He was immediately shaken out of his exhausted torpor by a horrendous_ crash,_ frighteningly close by. Zuko opened his eyes, seeing with shock that it was a piece of the ceiling.

_It was collapsing._

Heart in his mouth, Zuko jumped back to his feet, dodging the mountainous pieces of falling stone to get to Jin, abandoned by the Dai Li agents, who rushed to Azula's aid, the Princess under the very real threat of being crushed by the falling ceiling. His hand clamped around her wrist, and he slung the other arm about her waist, cradling her against his chest as he straightened, instinctively ducking in a vain attempt to protect himself from the falling rocks.

"Z-Zuko..." Jin's voice was muffled against his chest, the girl obviously sobbing. "Wh-What..."

"It's okay." Zuko was _so_ close. "I'll get us out, don't worry." The Dai Li agents were too busy protecting themselves and the girls to pay heed to Zuko, who wove his way through the tumultuous frenzy. He had to pull up short in his walk to avoid being crushed by a sizeable slab of rock which fell with a sickening _crash_ just a couple of feet in front of him. Dodging to the side, Zuko pelted across the last of the throne room and through the main doors, despite the fact that his strength was almost entirely spent, Jin as heavy as stone in his weak arms. "Y-You all right?" He panted, looking down at the girl in his arms. She sniffed, but slowly raised her eyes, their gaze locking for a few minutes before Jin closed them again, not yet able to look at him.

"Y-Yes." She lied, Zuko repositioning her slightly. "Z-Zuko... what..."

"Shhh..." He breathed in her ear. "It's okay. We're gonna get out of here and find the others." Zuko broke into a very fast job, the low booms of the collapsing room reverberating through the hallway. The cave-in would be stopped before any major damage occurred, Zuko knew, but it still provided a big enough distraction for the pair to slip out of the palace unnoticed.

Or so Zuko thought.

He had managed to make his way out of the castle, partway across the large courtyard before the Dai Li struck. They literally came out of nowhere, rising from the ground, encircling the pair within seconds. Zuko pulled up short, whirling around in an attempt to find some kind of escape. _Oh Agni no..._

"Where are you?" Zuko arched his neck, looking anxiously about the skies, hoping to spy the bison, but to no avail. "Dammit..." He held Jin closer, crying out as his feet became encased in dark stone. He lurched forward, the girl falling from his arms and tumbling with a gasp onto the stone. Zuko's hands were forced behind himself, an outright malicious blow to the small of his back forcing him on his knees, the teenager feeling sick with despair. _You can't be serious... After all of that... _Jin was dragged up by her hair, slung carelessly over the shoulder of a Dai Li agent who didn't bother to restrain the paralysed girl. _No...._

"Need a hand?" The cheery voice called from high up, Zuko arching his neck in surprise. He caught only a flash of green plummeting to the ground, the slabs of stone crumbling as Toph – who else could it have been? –stuck the landing perfectly, Appa hovering about twenty or so feet over their heads. The restraints on Zuko's hands and feet fell away like sand, the teenager straightening himself, unsheathing the Dao swords.

"About _time_!" Zuko panted, going for the Dai Li that held Jin. He got him down with a stab in the stomach, the agent crumpling to the ground, blood spilling over Jin's dress before Zuko was able to pull her out. The young man didn't look at the dying figure, never having much stomach for blood.

"Hurry up!" It was Sokka who attempted to steer Appa without any reins, grabbing large handfuls of hair on the top of his head. The bison roared in aggravation, but obediently lowered his massive frame to the stone, lumbering leftwards to avoid a painful boulder thrown in his direction. "Everyone, on _now!"_

They didn't need telling twice. Toph, three steps ahead of every other person on the courtyard due to her nearly unblocked chi paths, had managed to knock out most of the Dai Li, the remaining two agents vanishing beneath the stone, probably to report back to Azula and gather backup. With a short dig of a bare heel in the earth, the pavement beneath the three shot up until it ran parallel with Appa's back.

"Handy." Sokka muttered, leaning forward to take Jin from Zuko's arms. The black-haired teenager made to clamber atop of the bison, when a horrible thought flashed through Zuko's head, mouth sand-dry and ears ringing.

_Uncle._

"Hey!" Katara shouted from her position near Appa's head as Zuko turned away from the others, jumping heavily onto solid ground. "What are you _doing?"_

"I have to go back!" Zuko started to run, voice hoarse. "U-Uncle... He's been caught, I have to-" He pulled up short with a low cry as a wall of stone eight feet high sprang up inches from his face. "Hey!" Zuko whirled around, finding Toph standing opposite him. "Let me pass!"

"Get on the bison, Zuko." Her voice was firm, but oddly quiet, her hands – strong, steady hands that never shook – were trembling.

"But Uncle-"

"_Now."_ He thought she would have tried earthbending, encase his feet in stone and force him to walk, but in truth, Toph didn't trust her shaking hands to be so precise. Instead, she grabbed his wrist, an iron clamp around the bone, and simply began to walk back to Appa, dragging a very reluctant Zuko behind her.

"_No!"_ He tried to yank himself free, but although he made her stop in her brisk walk, he wasn't able to part from her hand. "I'm _not_ leaving Uncle!" Zuko took a step back, teeth gritted. "Let me _go!"_

"No." Toph was blinking rapidly, but she hoped that with all the hair over her face, Zuko wouldn't notice. He didn't. "You wanna go in there? You'll get _killed!"_

"I don't care!" Zuko shot back, trying to walk backwards. Toph simply dug her feet into the stone, jaw set. Jin watched the exchange with tears in her eyes, the only other soul who understood the root of Zuko's pain. "I _lied_ to him! H-he has to know that I'm not-"

"He does!" Toph blurted out in instant recognition, taking a step backwards towards Appa. "Zuko, it's not worth your life! Stop this!"

"_No!"_ Toph had the blunt stubbornness characteristic of any soul in the Earth Kingdom, but when Zuko had his mind set on something, deterring him was next to impossible, as they all knew. "Let me _go!"_

"Zuko!" Jin shouted as loud as she could, supported by Sokka. "_Please!"_ Her voice started him, the teenager swivelling his gaze to the paralyzed girl.

"Jin-"

"Your Uncle wouldn't want that!" She screwed up her eyes, trying to clear away the tears blurring her vision. "D-Don't you remember Zuko? In the tea shop? He wants you with the Avatar, more than anything!" Zuko stood very still, eyes widening. "Everything he ever did for you, it was for this!"

"What?"

"Why do you think he joined you, all those years ago? Why do you think he stuck by your side, through everything, even though he knew he would lose it all? Why did he try so hard to pull you away from your father?" Zuko was shaking, his mind whirling furiously.

"Wh-what did he tell you?" He sounded so accusing, Jin noticed. "What did he say?"

"Nothing!" She was pleading with him. "But I can tell! The way you talked about joining the Avatar, so sarcastically, there was hope there! Didn't you notice his reaction at all? And this morning, when we planned to come here, he was so happy! And proud! Proud of you because this is what he's been waiting for, ever since you were banished!" Jin was trying so hard to appeal to Zuko's emotions, knowing how highly he praised his Uncles' opinion of him. "He would rather see you on the bison than trying to rescue him, any day!"

"H-How..."

"_Think_, Zuko!" It had been so _obvious_ to Jin. How could Zuko have been so blind? "Every word he said to you, every action! He's been on the Avatar's side the entire time! He's been working on you for years, trying to push you away from the Fire Nation!"

"It's true." Toph spoke up, Zuko's gaze snapping to the blind girl. "I had a long talk with him." She explained. "The day he was hit with lightning." A shiver ran down her back at the thought. "I sort of knocked him down, and we got talking. All he wanted to talk about was you. I was told to look out for you if we ever crossed paths, and that you weren't evil at all." Katara and Sokka listened to the exchange open-mouthed. Only they had seen the violent, fierce young Prince who chased them across the world, ruthless, unprepared to listen to reason. The idea that someone like that could _join_ them, become Aang's teacher was... incomprehensible.

"He didn't." Zuko was stunned. "That... He..."

"Get on the bison, Zuko." Jin pleaded. "Do what your Uncle wants. He'll know, when you leave with us. He'll figure it out, realise that you were lying to protect the others. I know it hurt you to do that, but it was the only option." Toph had released her hold on Zuko, and he stood with his hands at his side, mind going so fast it hurt his temples.

_How damn cunning of him!_ He thought bitterly. _This whole time... Jin was right. He spent the past three years trying to discourage me! Trying to show me what was right! Now that I think about it, he never laid a hand on the Avatar, never tried to hinder his escape. He wanted me to join them from the start. If he had actually helped me to capture him, then Aang would have been taken care of a long time ago..._ To some degree, Zuko felt betrayed. His Uncle, his guardian, his real father and mentor, had been deceiving him this entire time. And he was right to be angry the man who had veiled his true intentions for so long. But Zuko wasn't furious, he wasn't enraged. It made the guilt worse, knowing that for so long, Iroh had been harbouring a secret, one-sided alliance with the Avatar. How had he felt, all those times that Zuko had tried to catch him? Anger? Shame?

No time to think on that. Zuko shook his head, and started to walk back to the bison. His heart had broken in two, his chest in agony as he clambered up onto Appa's back, taking Jin carefully from Sokka's arms, and promptly burying his nose in her shoulder, dissolving into sobs. He didn't care what the others thought, wasn't even aware of their presence.

He was leaving his Uncle.

Jin was whispering something soothing in his ear, a garbled string of words that he couldn't make out. He caught a '_finally_' from Sokka as Toph settled into her spot, tufts of white hair sprouting between her fingers, the ground beneath them all bucking as Appa rose into the air. Zuko grabbed a handful of the shaggy coat, the other clinging tightly to Jin, an arm about her waist as she sat crossways in her lap, still unable to move a muscle. She could feel him trembling, unable to imagine the depth of his emotional turmoil. The cold fact was, Iroh had gone. He was imprisoned without the wildest hope of escape, and would return to the Fire Nation in chains. Jin remembered with an icy twist in her stomach what he elderly General had said about an agonising execution, a sick bubble of fear, shock, grief, pushing at her throat.

Zuko cut a pitiful figure atop the bison, an emotional wreck who had lost all composure, clinging to a girl who was physically unable to embrace him, and despite the past months, the fear, the pain, the frustration, both Sokka and Katara felt painfully sorry for him. Katara pushed Zuko out of her head by fixating her attention entirely on Aang, watching his eyelids occasionally flutter, and noting the indiscernible rise and fall of his broken chest. Sokka had the job of steering Appa, desperately coaxing the bison to increase his altitude. He was carrying a heavy load, six passengers, and although it wasn't the most he had borne, Appa was tired, having flown at a high speed all night and much of the morning. Not only that, he was grieving. When Sokka had summoned the bison from the courtyard with the high-pitched whistle, Appa entered their field of vision in less than a minute. When he had landed – heavily – the bison's attention was drawn immediately to the bloodied figure in Sokka's arms. He had roared, the boy remembered, loud enough to bring the damn palace down, and nothing Sokka could do would make him cease the thunderous cries. Appa had been reluctant to take off in the air, exhausted and heavy-hearted, and his state had only grown worse at his point. He was lumbering, slow, the odd low growl still escaping from his throat. Sokka had tried his best, with consoling pats to the head, precariously bending down to murmur in his ear, but nothing seemed to remedy Appa's mental state.

"Come on, boy." Sokka gritted his teeth, hoping like hell that Appa would fly high enough to clear the first of Ba Sing Se's walls. "We're counting on you... Don't let Aang down now..."

"Wow." Jin, who rested her chin atop Zuko's collarbone, was able to get a decent view of the city below. From this distance, it seemed an indistinguishable jumble of slate roofs, trees, and twisting streets. Her house was there, her work, the bars and taverns she whiled away the night hours, but Jin couldn't pick them out from the thousands of other buildings, couldn't even determine what part of the city she was in. _Will I ever go back?_

The air was surprisingly cold, the wind a deafening whistle in her ears. Her eyes watering, Jin retreated to the warm comfort of Zuko's shoulder, his hand momentarily cradling the back of her head, lips in her hair. The small gesture of comfort, from a boy who was absolutely drained of all composure and dignity himself, wrung out and emotionally battered, struck Jin, her daring thoughts confirmed; he loved her.

Her first thought was that of confusion. _Why? _ What did she possibly have to offer Zuko that coaxed him to fall in love with her? As far as Jin could personally gather, she was a typical example of every other teenage girl in the city – or at least, the Lower Ring, working like a dog, spending the evenings in a loud, drunken haze, and winding up on her back in an unfamiliar bedroom. It took the girl a moment to realise that in actuality, she had broken the increasingly destructive cycle just a few days after meeting Zuko, with the tantalising possibility of a chaste, real relationship on an emotional level dangled in front of her, something Jin found a little perturbing. _He had that much of an effect on me from the start?_

"We're over the Inner Wall." Zuko was nearly giddy with relief, talking in her ear, voice raised over the wind. "We just have to make it across Lake Laogai and over the Outer Wall, and we're safe."

"Yeah, nothing but Fire Nation troops that want to kill us out there!" Sokka shouted back sarcastically. "We'll be fine!"

"Ugh, _sorry_." Zuko shot back, unaware that Sokka was being sarcastic. The dark-skinned boy turned back to frown at Zuko, before resuming his stance, muttering something about ungrateful spoiled Princes and how the Universe hated him.

"That's just Sokka's humor." Toph said, voice somehow carrying over the wind. "Don't worry. You'll get used to it." She gave Zuko a weak smile, the significance of her words hitting the other youths atop the bison all at once.

_Get used to it._ It was a casual, reassuring phrase, but it rattled Katara and Sokka to the core. _Get used to it?_ They were reminded afresh of the boy dressed in green, who had for so long been their sworn enemy. _How?_ Zuko wasn't just going to get off at the next stop and go his separate way. He was going to stay with the others, permanently, becoming a part of the group – if Toph (and apparently, Iroh) had their way. Sokka turned back to the others once more, Katara shifting her gaze from Aang. Their eyes met, an instantaneous agreement forged.

_That's not going to happen._

The group continued in silence, the jumble of teenagers tangled uncomfortably in their own thoughts. It was nearly impossible, to comprehend everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours. Upon the same hour the day before, an end to the War appeared to be in sight. Zuko and Iroh integrated completely into their new lives. Aang was on the verge of becoming virtually invincible. And yet, it had all gone so wrong, so quickly. Their one fragile respite after months of chaos and turmoil had collapsed almost as quickly as it has been tentatively formed. With Aang hanging on by a thread, the Earth Kingdom all but lost, and Zuko's arrival, turning months of hatred, enmity, and misconceptions on their head, only Toph was able to keep her mind clear.

The sun was surprisingly hot for spring, an hour or so past its peak. Lake Laogai was so dazzling, it hurt the eyes, Sokka screwing up his eyes to try and see through the blinding glare, the others averting their eyes. Jin, however, was curious. She had seen Lake Laogai before, but only once, at night. She had left the Inner Wall, on sunny summer afternoons, picnics and gatherings with family, but had always stuck to the meadows, trees, and lazy streams which lay to the south. Deep, cold, and chillingly ominous, she and her family had stayed far away from Lake Laogai, all too aware of the prison held hundreds of feet below the surface. Although she hadn't gained use of her limbs, Jin was now able to shift her centre of gravity, leaning to one side in order to gain a clearer view of the edge of the lake, noticing how different it looked, in comparison to the night. As she was doing so, however, the worst happened.

Sokka, who thought that they were flying perhaps a little _too_ close to the edge of the Lake, where the possibility of some sort of attack from the Dai Li was very real, he coaxed the bison to change his course leftwards. Although the young tribesman only intended for Appa to angle gently in this new direction, he pulled a little too hard, and Appa swerved in reflex. Jin, who was still leaning rightwards, screamed at the sudden change. Losing her balance, she was wrenched from the loose arm around her waist, and unable to cling to the side of the bison, due to her paralysis, she began to fall.

"_No!"_ Zuko lunged forward, seizing a limp hand before she slipped forever from his grasp. Unfortunately, it was her injured hand, slick with blood. Sokka and Katara watched in horror, Toph sitting very still, rightly guessing what had happened. Suspended in mid-air, Jin could only look down at the water, rushing fifty feet below her, neck immobile. Heart in his throat, Zuko got a firm grasp of Appa's back with his free hand, trying in vain to pull her up. "I-It's okay." He panted, feeling her hand slip an inch through her fingers. "We have to land!" Zuko looked over at Sokka, overwhelmingly panicked. "Now!"

"How?" Sokka directed Appa back towards the shoreline, mind spinning. "Katara, can you make some sort of ice for us to land on?"

"Are you kidding?" Katara wanted to help desperately, but refused to slacken her protective grip on Aang. "It would have to be ten feet thick to hold Appa's weight! There's no way I can do that in enough time!"

"Help..." Zuko gritted his teeth, feeling numb. "She's _slipping!"_ He tightened his iron grip on Appa's fur, the bison roaring in protest. "I can't hold on!"

"Don't let go!" Jin had closed her eyes, hyperventilating in terror. "P-Please- Zuko-"

"I won't!" He reassured her with a shout, casting another desperate look in Sokka's direction. "Can't you make him go faster?"

"No!" Sokka shot back. "I'm amazed he's flying this well as it is! Zuko, you have to pull her up somehow!"

"How?" The teenager tried tugging on her hand; in response, Jin slipped another inch, screaming. "Her hand is covered in blood, I can't pull! Jin, can you try and hold on? Squeeze your hand or something?"

"I-I can't!" Jin dared to open her eyes for a moment. "Zuko _please!"_

"It's going to be fine!" Zuko looked around, trying to find a protruding rock, any sort of landmark. Unfortunately, they were still a long way out from the coast, the water far too deep for Toph to do any good. "Just stay calm Jin!" He was holding onto her by the fingers. "Can you move anything at all?"

"No!" Even her injured hand, which would have caused blinding agony upon someone with feeling, was entirely numb. "Wh-What if I fall?"

"T-Take a deep breath and hold it!" Zuko tried to calculate how far away they were from the shore, when the lake would begin to shallow, how fast Appa was flying. "Katara, could you just make something for Jin to fall on?"

"From this height?" Katara looked over the edge of the bison, feeling sick. "She'll break every bone in her body! If Sokka flies Appa lower, then maybe-"

"_NO!"_ Zuko howled as the last four bloodied fingers slipped through his grasp. He lunged forward, the world slowing down as he lost his hold on Jin. His hold on Appa slipped, Toph's clasp on the back of his robe the only thing preventing him from falling in the water. His desperate flailing was useless, Jin falling from him, falling through the air, her terrified scream filling the balmy afternoon air for two seconds before she was cut off with a sickening _splash_. Restrained by Toph, Zuko could only watch in horror, a stunned Sokka reeling the bison back in a wide circle, eyes fixed in petrifaction at the exact spot where Jin had disappeared forever under the water.

_I've lost her..._

_

* * *

_

I am drained beyond all meaning.

Sorry for the cliffhanger. But you know how I like to be evil :D

So please review like good little readers?

'Til next time, peace homies :3


	18. Chapter 18

There are no excuses.

I have many. Working until midnight six days a week, being seperated from my laptop very often, christmas period, and massive writers block do not suffice for my evilness.

I am so sorry.

Next update will be much, much MUCH faster. I know I say that with each chapter, but I swear for srsly.

I tried so hard to make sure this wasn't a kick in the teeth... Emphasis on the 'tried so hard' bit.

Disclaimer: Own nothing, etc. etc.

* * *

_No._

Zuko stared numbly at the rippling water for a few moments, ears ringing, heart as dull and heavy as lead. He hoped –_ prayed – _for a miracle; Jin would regain the use of her limbs and swim to the surface, Katara would waterbend, would help her. _Something!_

_Agni please! _He started to struggle against Toph, aware that the sound began to creep into the strangled gasps that issued from his throat. _Not Jin you can't no there's no way it can't..._

"Ow!" Toph howled as Zuko's elbow caught her in the nose. No blood was drawn, but it was still enough for the girl to cringe away, holding her nose with shaking hands. The moment her hold on Zuko had dissolved, the Prince catapulted himself from Appa, assuming the correct diving position, taking in a deep lungful of air. He aimed as best he could for the exact spot where Jin had fallen, keeping his mouth firmly close as the water enveloped him, as abrupt and startling as a smack in the face. Amber-coloured eyes snapped open as he propelled himself through the water, kicking furiously. He looked out for anything that looked out of place in the rapidly darkening water, but aside from schools of freshwater fish, darting quickly out of his path, Zuko saw nothing but a vast pool of deep blue, suspended, it felt, in a sapphire. _Jin where are you!_ It was like a trying to find needle in a haystack. _Why did I wait so long? If I'd just jumped right in, I could have caught her!_ Zuko knew that without any air in her lungs, she would have sunk like a stone, right to the bottom.

The water grew colder. Although it was nowhere as bad as the freezing Arctic cavepools he swam through some months before, it was still enough to send a shock to his limbs. Zuko's head swam, lungs burning, but he pressed on, using his arms to see in the blackened water. He felt the silvery brush of fish scales against his fingers, resisting the urge to recoil in disgust.

His fingers brushed mud. Zuko's heart leaped in his agonised chest, and he began to explore the weed-thick ground, groping wildly for the touch of skin, cloth, or hair, increasingly aware of his weakening state.

Nothing. Frantic, tore out the weed at the roots, the last remnants of air escaping from his lungs in a scream. He lurched, as he inhaled water on reflex, muscles instantaneously trying to inflate the vacuum in his chest. Zuko was desperate, borderline hysterical, but he wasn't stupid. Pushing against the ground in water-ruined shoes, Zuko made his way back to the surface, brain three times too large for his skull.

"Zuko, you _idiot!"_ Sokka shouted. "Stop!" Zuko, who had burst through the softly shivering surface with a loud, desperate gasp of air, paid him no need, turning back down into the water, pushing himself back down to the bottom. "Do something!" Sokka turned back to the other girls, eyes wide. "Katara! Bend them out, o-or _something!"_

"I..." Katara looked down at the deep water, heart thudding in her throat. She tentatively raised one arm, making downwards motion to part the lake, but her slice only reached twenty or so feet down. With only one arm, she couldn't make the motion strong enough. But Appa was hardly stable, hovering unsteadily above the water. Katara looked down at the lake, and then over at Sokka, mouth pressed in a trembling line. His shoulders slumped in realisation, the sick feeling in his stomach rising, flooding through his chest. She wouldn't let go of Aang. The risk of him falling in the water if he was draped across Appa's back was too great. Katara wouldn't hazard Aang for Jin, or Zuko, who would probably kill himself in the continued search for Jin's body. "I-I can't!"

"You have to do _something!"_ Sokka shouted back. He didn't particularly _like_ Zuko, but Jin seemed like a nice enough girl, and he couldn't think of a death more terrifying than drowning whilst paralyzed. "She'll _die_, Katara!"

"If I let go of Aang, he'll fall!" Katara shot back, frantic. "Sokka, come get him. And be _careful!"_

"Ugh, we don't have _time_ for that!" Toph spoke up, sick of the dark-skinned pair dilly-dallying around. Jin had maybe another minute, tops, before she would succumb to lack of air. She stood up, lurching forward on unsteady legs, wishing Appa would just stay _still._ Sokka was still trying to carefully climb across his back and get to Katara, who was staring at Toph in confusion. The blind girl took a deep breath, eyes closing. She tried to imagine the earth, at the bottom of the lake. The thin crust would be muddy, a rich gloopy mess, but the rest would be granite, solid, heavy and dark. Toph tried to imagine it beneath her feet, how it would be icy cold from a millennia of darkness. After a few moments of intense concentration, she raised her arms, trying, with every fibre of her being, to raise the earth that she could not see.

Zuko was losing the use of his limbs. They felt clumsy, and numb, not responding fast enough to the commands of his brain. His head felt oddly light, despite the crushing pressure that enfolded him, eyes being pushed into his skull by invisible thumbs. His hands found the mud again, he started to grope wildly in the darkness, his heart soaring as his hand clutched something loose, floating, and plummeting again as he pulled the weed out of the ground. _No!_ He was in utter despair. _Jin, where are you?_ Zuko closed his eyes, blinded in the darkness anyway. He tried his hardest to repress the scream bubbling in his chest, not using the last of his air so fruitlessly. As he resumed his search for Jin, fingers trailing through the mud, however, the ground beneath him began to shake. _Earthquake!_ Zuko started, grabbing on to a sprouting clump of weed out of instinct. Unlike other seismic activity he had experienced, however, this didn't peter out into soft trembles, nor did it reach a violent crescendo, tearing the earth apart. He felt the strangest sensation, of the water _rushing_ around him, something he put down to hallucinations, he had lost all sense of stability and balance, his body too starved of air. Zuko buried his forehead in the mud, thinking he could just wait this thing out. _And then what? I'm too late... It's been too long... She's been down here too long... She can't still be alive..._

"Toph, you _legend!"_ Sokka shouted as the earth broke the surface, Appa immediately collapsing onto a patch of the land with a groan. A few fish still flapped around, gasping for air, clumps of weed making dark splotches against the mud. Zuko was on his hands and knees, gasping for air, coughing up very grimy-looking water. Sokka focused his attention on the girl who lay just eight feet from him, so close, but in that underwater tomb, it may as well have been miles. He ignored the crackle of pain flaring up his ankles as he jumped from Appa's back, landing awkwardly, and staggered over to the unconscious figure. Sokka turned Jin over gently, wincing as he caught sight of her chalk-white face. His conscious mind drifted back four years, to when he had been fishing with his father and a few of the other men. Suluk, a young warrior who had just entered manhood, had fallen into the water. When he had finally been fished out of the freezing ocean, he had stopped breathing. Sokka remembered vividly how his father and Bato had tried to bring him back from the Spirits, one breathing into his mouth, the other pumping on his chest, pushing the warm air out his lungs to simulate exhalation. Their attempts were unsuccessful – he was submerged in the freezing water for far too long, the cold apparently killing him before the actual drowning. He asked his grandmother about it later, and the elderly woman explained how the kiss of life, a technique employed by the tribe for generations, brought the victim back from the edge of the Spirit World, by breathing for them until they regained use of their lungs.

_Hopefully I can do it._ Sokka placed his stacked palms in the square of Jin's chest, pressing down hard. He felt the ribs give way a little under his touch, and drew back a little, thinking he may have hurt her. _Sokka, what's the worst you can do to her? Kill her?_ He scolded himself, and leaned back over her, gritting his teeth.

"Toph!" He shouted, looking up at the girl. She was beside Zuko, who was still coughing up water, shocked and disorientated. "Get Zuko here. I need him." She nodded dumbly, thumping the teenager in the back to help him get rid of the last of the smelly lake water before grabbing his arm, hauling him into a standing position and dragging him over to Sokka.

"Jin..." Zuko croaked numbly, sinking to his knees beside her head. "No..." He held a hand gently over her mouth. "Sh-She's not breathing..."

"I know." Sokka paused, looking carefully at Zuko. "Listen. I need you to breath into her mouth." The other boy looked up in confusion. "It's an old trick from my tribe. It just might get her breathing again. Tilt her head back, and cover her nose. Breathe deeply, we need to get all the water out."

"A-All right." Zuko arched Jin's neck, carefully, pinching her nose with two fingers. She was so _fragile_ to him, with her deathly white skin and slack neck. He breathed in deeply, pressing his open mouth against hers.

"Breathe slowly." Sokka instructed carefully, watching the indiscernible rise of Jin's chest as Zuko obeyed his words. Something was lurching in the put of Zuko's stomach as he breathed into Jin, his hands on her face shaking. _Don't die._ He pleaded inwardly, slowly pulling away. _Don't __**let**__ her die! _Zuko closed his eyes, praying. He _knew_ the Spirits were watching them, knew how easily they could intervene. _She is innocent! _

"Again." Sokka instructed gravelly, not liking Jin's eerie stillness. Something should have happened at this point. That should have been enough to push the water out of her lungs and get her breathing again. _We're too late..._

"Uh-huh." Zuko breathed into Jin once more, screwing up his eyes. Beaded tears clung to his dark eyelashes, the shivering bubble of grief threatening to burst. _Agni, please... I'll do anything! I'll swear to anything! I'll defeat my father if it's what it takes! I'll betray my people! I'll kill Azula! Name your task and I'll __**do**__ it!_

Jin coughed.

The three figures around her started, Zuko immediately rolling the girl onto her side as she shuddered, emptying her lungs and stomach of the lake water. He rubbed Jin's back carefully, eyes locked on her face as she continued to retch and cough.

"Thank you." He breathed to no one in particular, pressing his nose against Jin's sopping hair. The girl faded back into unconsciousness with a soft groan, eyelids twitching. Zuko shook violently, the burning ember exploding in his throat. Jin almost _died_.

"Is she okay?" Katara spoke up tentatively, standing ten or so feet away from the other children. Her voice snapped Zuko out of his torpor, the teenager straightening up silently, jaw iron and eyes flashing coldly.

"Yes." Toph winced at his tone, something in her stomach tightening. _Zuko, you're going crazy... Calm down._ "No thanks to _you."_

"What?" Katara frowned, not grasping what Zuko was saying. "What do you mean?"

"This is a _lake!"_ Zuko accused me. "Filled with water! And you refused to help!"

"I did not_ refuse!"_ Katara shot back defensively, hands curling into fists. "I had Aang! I _tried_ Zuko, but I couldn't do anything while I held on to him!"

"What about _just now!"_ Zuko retorted. "What was in her lungs? Water! Why didn't you do something? You are so damn _selfish!"_

"_What!"_ Katara screeched, eyes wide. "_I_ am selfish! Look in the mirror, Zuko! All you have ever cared about is yourself and what you wanted! Nothing else matters! The fate of the whole _world_ doesn't matter, as long as you have your way!"

"That is _not_ true!" Zuko cried. "Well, not anymore! I've done things wrong, I accept that! I am _trying_ to do the right thing, but you won't let the past go!"

"Of _course_ I can't let the past go!" Toph sank her head into her hands, shaking her head. Why did they have to erupt into this tension _now?_ "Look at what you have done!I can't look at you without being reminded of everything! All the lives you've damaged, the pain and suffering you've caused, it's not going to go away! It'll _never_ go away!"

"And I've said I'm sorry, a million times! I've done everything I can to show my regret! What else do you want me to do?"

"Nothing!" Katara shouted. "There is nothing you _can_ do, Zuko! Nothing will _ever_ change what you have done!"

Zuko fell silent. His arms fell heavily to his sides, shoulders slumping. His wiry frame, which had been as tense and coiled as a spring, fell lax. He was still for a few moments, mind ticking over, before something snapped in his head. _No._

"I saved _everyone_ today!" Zuko shouted in retaliation, fuming. "If it wasn't for me, you would be locked in the Dai Li's cells! I _rescued_ you Katara! Or have you forgotten? I distracted and tricked Azula so you could escape, don't you remember? Are you telling me that it means _nothing_, just because it was Prince Zuko?"

"It's not _enough!"_ Katara argued. "Nothing will ever be enough to trust you, Zuko!"

"That is _not_ my fault!" Zuko was beyond exasperated. "Stop being so pig-headed Katara! Get the hell _over_ yourself!"

"Ex_cuse_ me?" Katara fumed. "You're telling _me_ to get over yourself! You are the most self-centred, egotistical-"

"You know _nothing_ about me, Katara!" Zuko shouted in response. "How dare you say that to me, when you don't know the slightest thing!"

"I know enough!" Katara was shaking. "I know you are a _terrible_ person! You don't _deserve _our help! After what you've done, you don't deserve anything!"

"Shut _up!"_ The other two gasped as Zuko raised his arms, fists crackling with fire, intending to strike Katara. She was ready for the Prince, however, and surrounded by water. Agitated by the flames, Appa roared, stamping his feet and clumsily leaping into the air. Zuko didn't hear the bison, nor did he hear Sokka and Toph screaming at the pair to stop. The rage had taken over – he was seeing red, every fibre of his being twisted in loathing hate towards the girl in blue who was fighting back with equal hostility.

"I _told_ you!" Katara panted, attempting to encircle Zuko's ankle with a watery tentacle, the boy managing to evaporate her attack. "You haven't changed!"

"I _have_ changed!" Zuko shot back, his voice cracking. Blind and deaf to reason, he continued to express his overwhelming pain and frustration in the only way he knew how – by lashing out at the girl who had antagonized him so acutely. Katara accepted the attack with a grim welcome – to her, it was an affirmation of something she had always known. Zuko couldn't, wouldn't, ever change. Even if he had decided to root for a different team, it didn't alter a thing about his personality. He was as highly-strung, angry, and difficult as ever.

"_Stop!" _Toph stamped her feet and screamed, sending the pair flying across the tiny island. Winded, Zuko landed with a heavy _thud _beside the prone figure of Jin, feeling as though his ribs had been cracked. Katara righted herself quickly, short of breath, eyes flashing.

"What did I tell you?" Zuko groaned, keeping his eyes closed against the hot afternoon sun. Another hot rush of rage surged through his chest, threatening to explode. "What did I _tell_ you?" Katara repeated, voice high and panicked. "He's not on our side! He doesn't want to help us! He's just as twisted and evil as-"

"Katara, shut _up!"_ Toph cut over the girl, forcing back a very real urge to hit Katara herself. "You have no idea what you're saying!"

"No." Sokka spoke up quietly, eyeing Zuko. The teenager had forced himself into a sitting position, legs drawn up slightly, head hanging between his knees. "Katara's... Right." It hurt more than Sokka liked to say that. _Why?_ "We can't..."

"You're joking." Toph said flatly as Sokka turned towards Appa, whistling and waving his arms, coaxing the giant bison to come down. "Please..." She felt Katara lift Aang in her arms, her grief painfully apparent. "You're not serious..."

"That's it, buddy." Sokka muttered as Appa landed with a shuddering _thump_ on the ground. He rubbed the side of the bisons' face affectionately, feeling ill again. Zuko was silent, lost in his own panicked thoughts. _I just tried to hurt Katara... After everything... After I said things were different... But... She pushed me. She pushed and pushed and wouldn't stop! It's not my __**fault**__, I..._

_... What am I saying? Of course it's my fault._ He closed his eyes, an inferno of guilt purging his insides. _Of course it's my fault. I tried to lay the first blow... I am such an__** idiot!**_

"Sokka!" Toph's pleading voice made Zuko start, lifting his head. "Don't be stupid!"

"I'm not." Katara had already climbed up onto Appas back, offering her arms out to Sokka, who held Aang's body. "Letting him stay would be stupid. Trusting him would be stupid."

"No, it's not!" Toph argued. She admitted, what Zuko had done was horribly idiotic, but what could any of them expect, after how stubborn Katara had been? How else was Zuko meant to act in regards to her accusations?

"Whose side are you on?" Sokka challenged, standing beside Appa's head. Zuko bowed his head, inwardly screaming. This wasn't happening... As if it wasn't possible for things to get any worse...

"What?" Toph was astounded. "Sokka, this isn't about _sides!_ This is about what is good for the world! Listen, General Iroh has been planning this for years! He told me this was what he wanted!"

"Well, General Iroh isn't here." Sokka said simply. "And when he's not here, Zuko can't control himself. He attacked Katara, Toph! She is my sister!" The young warrior shook his head, turning to Appa.

"Sokka-"

"Are you coming?" He had hoisted Aang up to Katara, beginning to climb onto the bison. Toph was absolutely stunned, blind eyes lowered to the ground. "Toph!"

"Don't be daft." Zuko spoke up, his voice trembling. "Go." She turned to him, biting her lip. "Don't make them hate you too." He was unbelievably tense, Toph noticed, his heart hammering madly in his chest.

"_Toph!"_

"All _right!" _ She shouted up to the trio atop the bison. The young girl closed her eyes, digging her heels in the earth. The ground shuddered a moment later, rumbling violently as she eventually summoned forth more of the muddy lake bottom, a small passage wide enough for Zuko to walk back to shore. "There." She turned to Zuko, giving him a grim smile.

"Thanks." Zuko spoke numbly, his mind still trying to process what had gone on, trying to comprehend his current situation.

"Listen – I'll talk to them." Toph kept her voice low, knowing she had seconds at best. "Stay in Ba Sing Se. Stay faceless. It's safer than the countryside. We'll come for you – somehow – I'll make them see."

"_Toph!"_

"My uncle." Zuko spoke desperately, getting up on his knees as Toph started to reluctantly walk away. "He's a member of an underground group. They're everywhere. The White Lotus." Toph began climbing heavily onto the bison. "They can he..." He trailed off helplessly as Appa began to take flight, Toph well out of his earshot. The water-tribe children refused to look at Zuko, but Toph nodded clearly, signalling that she had heard and understood. Zuko fell on his hands, eyes closing.

_You Agni-damned idiot!_ He clenched his jaw, digging trembling fingers into the mud. _What was that? How could you do that to Katara? Now they've gone and left you alone!_

_Completely alone._ Zuko straightened himself, feeling very cold. _Uncle..._ it was like hit in the chest, with a ton of bricks. _He's... __**gone**__._ He remembered his previous fear very clearly, how Iroh would eventually leave him... He _never_ thought it would be this soon. Zuko drew in a long, quivering breath, blinking back tears. He couldn't imagine a world without his Uncle. How the hell was he meant to go on alone? He'd already been alone before... And that had been a disaster, Zuko winding up lost and starving. Iroh had always been there for Zuko, no matter how much of a prat he had been. _Right now, I need him more than ever, and..._

_Oh crap._ Zuko let out a choked sob, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. _Not now... I can't fall apart._ He swallowed, his insides churning. They felt liquefied, as thick and lumpy as porridge. Even his fingers felt swollen, stubby and clumsy, so acute was the numb shock. Zuko swallowed, and with a soft groan, made his way rather stiffly over to Jin, who was still out cold.

"Jin." He murmured gently, touching the side of her face with his hand. There was no response, a stab of fear piercing Zuko's heart briefly. He thought the worst, that she had somehow stopped breathing again, until her bottom lip twitched. "Jin," He repeated again, more to himself than to her. His voice rasped painfully in the afternoon air, Zuko trying to rouse her. Nothing. The bottom dropped in Zuko's stomach, the teenager pressing his ear desperately against her chest. Jin's heartbeat was there, pumping away determinedly. She was fine (Zuko hoped), just unconscious. _She needs to be wrapped up warm somewhere. What Jin needs is recovery. _Zuko stood, hefting the slim figure in his arms carefully. Jin was completely slack, neck lolling, and the male had to raise one knee, balance her properly, adjusting her head so she leaned against his chest.

_Prioritise. _Zuko instructed himself as he started to walk along the little passage Toph had made, trying so hard to shake the crippling guilt that flooded his insides. _Get Jin to a safe place, have a breather, and then find Minsheng and his brother. Come up with a plan, and free Uncle. He'll know what to do. He always knows what to do._

He was tired, in pain, shell-shocked, hungry, thirsty, and already weak in the arms from the short distance he had carried Jin. This was going to be hell.

_Right now, _he instructed himself, keeping his breathing slow and even. _Just focus on putting one foot in front of the other. _

* * *

"That was the most disgusting thing I have ever endured in my _life!"_ Meng sighed as he hauled Kuei out of the underground sewer, the young King having kept up the long, complaining for the _entire_ journey. "Ugh! And you are _sure_ there was no other option?"

"Positive." Meng muttered, replacing the heavy iron lid of the sewer. "Okay, so I was right. I know where we are. The Dancing Monkey is just a short walk away from here. Half an hour at the most."

"Is there no water about?" Kuei asked hopefully, looking down at his muck-covered robes. Meng paused, carefully examining the tall figure up and down.

"To tell the truth, I don't think you should get clean just yet." Meng said carefully. "I mean, you look completely unrecognizable. You couldn't quite pass for a peasant, but there's no way you could be pointed out as a nobleman, let alone a King."

"And?" Kuei demanded, not understanding the point of Meng's argument. The male groaned, brushing his hair back behind his shoulders. The hair ribbon had come loose and fallen off at some point in the trip, leaving the greasy tangles to fall all over the place. _Stupid hair._ Or to be more correct, stupid Dai Li, who saw it fit to cut his hair off four years ago, as a further mark of dehumanisation.

"The place will be crawling with Dai Li." Meng reminded the King. "They're all going to be keeping a very, very sharp eye out for you, especially as we haven't been seen with the others." Something panged in Meng's stomach. _Spirits, Jin... I hope you're safe._ He knew he shouldn't be worrying, after all, she was with Zuko, and he trusted the Prince, but he couldn't shake a niggling sensation of unease. "They're not going to single you out from any of the other peasants on the street. It's a great disguise."

"But-"

"I promise you, you can have a wash when we get to the Dancing Monkey." Meng said, rubbing at his eyes.

"Very well." Kuei nodded apologetically. "Look... I know I'm being difficult... I am sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Meng started to walk down the side alley, signalling for the King to follow. "You've just been overthrown. You're a fugitive in your own city. I'd be wanting to take my frustrations out on someone else too."

"It's just shocking." Kuei walked behind the male with a frown. "How this could have _happened_..."

"Well, from what I hear, Azula is an unconquerable force." Meng offered. "There's no way you could have stopped her. Not when she's working with your right-hand man."

"Long Feng!" Kuei fumed. "That _snake_! Ooh, you don't know what I want to do to him..."

"The guy locked me up for life." Meng reminded his King. "_Trust_ me, I know. But... How could you ever trust him? He's just so shady and slimy!"

"He's been the head of the Dai Li since I was ten." Kuei murmured. "Ever since I was that age, he tried to be my friend, and when I got older, an advisor and confidante."

"He'd been working on you for a long time." Meng concluded. "_Ugh,_ that... Look, if you ever get your throne back, just abolish the Dai Li in its entirety. Don't even bother weeding out the good ones. The Lower Ring would thank you for it, trust me."

"I would like to, after what I've seen." Kuei was deeply perturbed. "I never knew about the brainwashing or the lies... I just thought they kept order and arrested criminals."

"Well, welcome to the land of the criminals." They had reached the bottom of the narrow, winding alley, which bottomed out into a large main street. Meng held his arm out with a mock flourish, bowing deeply. "Watch your step, Your Majesty." He warned. "And... Hm." He grabbed Kue's sleeve once more. "Just stay with me. And don't touch anything."

"All right." Kuei blinked as he was led into and down the busy street. He remembered the public train, thought that had been crowded and exciting enough, but _this..._ He'd never seen so many people crammed together, not even at his largest celebratory balls. There were children, no higher than his waist, screaming and laughing, threading their way through the slowly moving people. One bumped into Kuei quite hard, and he almost tripped, doubling over to regain his step. The child turned, and he got a quick glimpse of a toothless grin in a sunburned face smeared with dirt, before he turned and ran to catch up with his friends, shrieking.

"Kids." Meng muttered, helping Kuei to right himself. "You all right? Check your pockets, he probably tried to mug you."

"Don't have any in this robe." Kuei spoke shakily. "Rob me? A child?"

"Oh, yeah." Meng spoke matter-of-factly. "A lot of kids are turned out hungry by their mothers in the morning and can't come home until evening. They're not given food, nor money to buy it, so they don't really have any option."

"Oh, goodness." Kuei blinked. "I'll admit, that is terrible."

"Only in extreme cases." Meng added quickly. "I never went without when I was little, unless I was naughty. It's the parents who are dirt poor, but still have ten kids apiece that do it."

"Oh..." Kuei really didn't understand what Meng was talking about, but nodded anyway. "What is that smell?"

"Hmm." Meng inhaled deeply. "Ah. That's just the general street smell. You know, people throwing their garbage out the window, no one bathes regularly, rotting food, toilets overflowing... At least it's not that hot. I actually forgot it smelled this bad. Guess your nose kind of gets used to it."

"Ugh." Kuei covered his nose with a sleeve. "I don't think I could... It's terrible! Don't people of get sick?"

"Oh, all the time." Meng nodded. "Luckily, my aunt and uncle run an apothecary, so whenever we get sick, we can get free medicines for it. And we kept ourselves and the place clean. But again, it's usually the really, really poor that catch and spread illness." He gave a small, useless shrug. "Ooh, we have to hang a left here, I think..." The pair turned, Kuei looking behind himself as he heard a shout.

"What was that?" He asked, wide-eyed. "Someone just screamed."

"I dunno." Meng was secretly scanning the faces of everyone who walked past, hoping to find someone he once knew. "Mugging, maybe. Stop looking."

"That man has a machete!" Kuei exclaimed loudly. "He's just polishing it in public!" Meng winced, picking up his pace. "What if someone trips and falls on it?"

"Yeah, trips and falls." Meng muttered. "Keep your voice down, please. He's glaring at us."

"Sorry." Kuei apologized. "I've just never seen anyone playing about with a weapon like that."

"Yeah, they do that." Meng explained. "Usually to ward off anyone whose thinking about mugging or attacking them. No one would be stupid enough to pickpocket a guy with a blade that size. Come on, we have to go down here." Kuei followed the other male down another side alley, which looked to be used as a garbage dump by most people. "If we-"

"_Help!" _Both of the males froze. "Please, someone!" Meng released his hold on the King, sprinting down the alley. "_Help!"_ Finally, he saw the source of the commotion – a ragged thief brandishing a blade to heavily pregnant young woman.

"Hey!" Meng shouted, hitting the mugger with a rock, sending him flying six or so feet and crashing into the wall. He sprang to the young woman's side, offering his hand. "Are you all right?"

"Y-Yes I'm..." She trailed off, staring at Meng's face. Hazel eyes slowly narrowed. "... Meng?"

"Meilin!" Meng was stunned, standing still as the girl embraced him. "Jeez, are you okay?"

"I'm fine! I- Oh _damn!"_ She bit her lip, looking distressed. "Everything is such a muddle... I thought you were inside! Jiro said you were away for good!"

"I was." Meng blinked. "It's a long story... But are you all _right?_ You could have been stabbed!"

"No! No no no no..." Meilin rushed to the side of the fallen 'thief'. "Dai Shi? Dai Shi, are you all right?"

"Dai Shi?" Meng clicked. "You're scamming!"

"Maybe?" The girl winced, gently shaking Dai Shi's elbow. The man groaned, eyelids fluttering. "Okay, we were scamming. It pulls in a lot, you know."

"If you're pulling the fake mugging..." Meng frowned. "Then shouldn't you-"

"Let me _go!" _Meng froze as Kuei's voice floated in their direction. "Unhand me, sirrah! Do you have _any_ idea who you're dealing with?"

"Shit." Meng shook his head, watching as two very familiar faces walked into view, carrying a hysterical Kuei along with them. "Yang and Tao."

"_Woa!"_ The taller of the pair jumped, eyes wide. "Meng! Wh- Tao, it's Meng!" Meng gasped as he was engulfed in another bone-crushing hug. "You're out! How's it going buddy."

"Fine." He said weakly. "Uh... You mind letting the guy go? He's with me?"

"Course!" Tao beamed, rather stunned to see his old friend standing just a few feet away. "_Man_, when did you get out? I thought you'd be a lifer!"

"Was." Meng gave a little shrug. "I broke out with a foreign girl." He directed his gaze to a very shaken Kuei, wincing. "Um... You all right?"

"_No!" _ Kuei fumed. "I am _not_ all right! Who are these rogues that manhandled me? Associates of yours?"

"Okay, calm down man." Yang held up his hands. "I'm sorry. We weren't gonna hurt you buddy. We don't do that."

"You _thieves_." Kuei cried. "I should have you hung drawn and quartered! Do you have any idea who you are dealing with?"

"Woa Meng, whose this guy?" Meilin raised an eyebrow. "Kinda highly-strung, 'aint he?"

"Oh, you have no idea." Meng groaned, rubbing at his eyes. "Guys... Uh... Look. I have to go. This is really really important. We have to meet up later, though. Just give me an hour to sort this out and clean myself up."

"Are you being tailed?" Dai Shi spoke up, still not quite able to stand on his own. "Do you need a place to lie low?"

"To be honest, I think the Dai Li have enough on their plates to worry about me." Meng muttered, giving Kuei a glance. "Like I said, I'll tell you as much as I can later. And you have to tell me everything too."

"'Course!" Meilin beamed. "Like... Ooooooh." Her expression darkened a little. "Yeah. We _have _to talk later."

"Great." Meng grabbed Kuei's sleeve. "The old hangout all right?"

"Meilin and I bunk there now." Dai Shi grinned. "Free rent, and since her folks booted her, options are pretty slim."

"Wonder why." Meng eyed the womans' swollen stomach. "How far along are you?"

"Seven and a half." She rested a hand on the mound, patting it gently. "No hiccups yet, thank the Spirits."

"Father?"

"Ha!" Dai Shi cracked. "Narrowed it down to half a doz- _Ow!"_ He cried out, getting a dark kick in the shins. "Oww! Mei_lin!"_

"See you later." Meng hid a smile, giving the others a short wave before departing, a chorus of parting words accompanying his exit.

"_Those_ are your friends?" Kuei spoke as soon as they were out of earshot, expressing tact when it was needed. "Those scoundrels?"

"Hey." Meng frowned. "They're not. I don't know if you noticed, but Dai Shi is providing for Meilin, and in future, the baby, despite the fact it's not his. He's a good person for that. And so are the rest of them."

"They tried to rob us!"

"They didn't know who we were!" Meng shot back. "They're desperate! Who wouldn't be? Look around, Kuei. Look at this place! Parent's can't provide for their damn kids, work is impossible to find, rent is sky-high because there aren't enough houses for everyone... There is no other option! It's either be dishonest, or starve to death!" He closed his eyes, letting out a long breath. "Sorry. I'm sorry." He apologized. "I'm just a little on edge. We should find this place."

"All right." Kuei nodded, the pair lapsing into a silence that lasted for a long time.

* * *

_I wish there was some other option._ Zuko mused as he lay the still figure in his arms across the thin mattress. He had carried Jin to the place that she had pointed out to him the abandoned house frequented only at night by squatters, so, so, _so_ long ago.

_It wasn't long ago._ Zuko settled back on folded legs, staring at the girls' face. _It was a few weeks ago. A month, at the most. Agni, has it really only been that long? Has my life changed that much? Have we changed that much?_

_**Focus!**_He instructed himself firmly, resting his hand on Jin's shoulder. It was cold. Her clothes were still damp, he noticed with a downward tug of the lips. Of course they would be – she was fully submerged in water about an hour or so ago. Dripping wet clothes take a long time to dry, he knew after a few unpleasant experiences. _I have to um... Oh dear._

"Jin." He spoke gently. The sun had passed its' peak, and although wasn't blasting completely through the window, was still able to light the tiny, dilapidated room pretty thoroughly. "Jin... I have to take off some of your clothes." She couldn't hear him, and Zuko didn't expect her to. It was for his benefit, really. Just so he could feel a little less... perverted. "Just so you know..." He swallowed, mouth dry. "Okay." He reached for the sash about Jin's waist, heart thudding. He untied the sash carefully, pulling her outer robe apart and sliding it down her shoulders. Zuko threaded her arms through the wide sleeves, and let the leaf-green robe crumple on the floorboards beside them.

"... Oh." Zuko murmured weakly as he fingered the hem of Jin's yellow underdress. The material was thick, heavier than he had expected, and had held the water quite well. "Um..." Zuko took in a deep breath, and reached under the hem of her dress. He ran his fingertips lightly across the top of her leg, heart pounding in his ribcage. "Sorry about this." He breathed, unaware that if Jin were awake, she would have thoroughly enjoyed his touch. His fingers brushed her knee, and continued northwards, at a snails pace. "I'm just trying to see if you have a skirt underneath – aha!" He breathed lightly in triumph, finding the hem of a thin little undergarment, six inches north of her knee. "Okay." Zuko closed his eyes as he started to hike the thick yellow dress up her legs. "Almost done." He spoke to himself in the silent room, carefully pulling the underdress over Jin's head. Although Zuko hadn't seen anything, having kept his eyes closed, his hands had still closed over her flesh. It was enough for his stomach to shrink into a soft ball of goo, cheeks blushing madly. He let out a long, slow breath as he set the yellow underdress beside the thin mattress, finally opening his eyes. Zuko's breath caught in his throat as he frank in Jin's sleeping figure, the nauseas, gooey sensation in his stomach increasing. "I-I'll... I'll um, just find something to cover you with..." There was a blanket, thin and ragged, but it was stained, and smelled absolutely terrible. Zuko bit his lip, giving a cursory glance about the room, without any real intention of actually putting anything so unclean on her skin. He winced, and pressed a hand against her bare arm. The flesh, prickling with goosebumps, was icy against his palm. "I need to warm you with something..." He murmured, chewing on a thumbnail.

_Zuko, you're better than any blanket._ A voice piped up in his head. _And even if you can't warm her up quite enough, you can raise your core temperature to help... _

"But that means I have to... undress, too." Zuko murmured face flushing even deeper. "There's no use in me warming her in wet clothes..." He pressed his hand against her skin again, shaking his head. She was freezing. What choice did he have?

_And I don't have to completely or even half undress._ He reasoned, bending down and pulling at his shoes and socks. Zuko unhooked the outer robe, the long-sleeved shirt, and with faltering fingers, the high-necked undershirt, leaving them in a rust-coloured puddle on the grimy floorboards.

"I'm only doing this to keep you warm." Zuko swore, lying down beside the girl. He gently looped an arm about her waist, and pulled Jin closer to his chest, making sure their bodies were sandwiched together tightly. "No other reason." He breathed the words into her neck, very aware of the odd sensation in his stomach concentrating, tightening. Zuko kept his breathing as slow and even as he possibly could, Jin's skin so shockingly cold against him. They both trembled, though for very different reasons. Zuko dug his nose into the nape of Jin's neck, trying to force down the rising ember yet again as a painful thought flashed through his mind.

_Uncle..._ He wanted to cry. _You're not going to be alone in there. I'm not going to abandon you again and leave you at Azula's mercy. I can't join the Avatar, not after what I did to Katara. I know how Aang feels about her, if he hears about what I did when he wakes, he'll be after my blood. My so-called destiny has blown up in my face. __**Again**__. I need you Uncle! I need you to help me, I need you to tell me what the hell I'm going to do!_

_I've ruined everything. _Zuko felt sick with guilt and shame. _Even if I rescue Uncle, how do I tell him that I've ruined things with the Avatar? That I attacked Katara? He'll be so angry at me. All of his hard work has gone to waste... _

_I'm such a damn failure! _Zuko was beyond frustrated. _Mum was wrong. I've been a failure all my life, and this just proves it. I'm sitting here, with a half-dead Jin, no Uncle Iroh, no Avatar, and nowhere to go. How is this __**not**__failure?_ He was a hairs-breadth from a panic attack.

_And I lied to him. I hurt him, so terribly. Even if it was to spare Jin, it was a horrible thing for me to do. I tore Uncle apart, and this will just be salt in the wound. I don't know if I could talk to him. I don't know if I could even look him in the eye..._

_I can't keep thinking like this._ Zuko closed his eyes, trying to quell the tremors in his limbs. He closed his mind to thought, to hypothetical imaginings and the slow picking over of a million various possibilities, closed his mind to the sick hopelessness and guilt flaring in his gut.

_Breathe in and out._ Zuko commanded himself, clinging to Jin as tightly as he could without hurting or choking her. _Deeply, slowly. Keep your mind empty and just keep breathing. _

It was all he could do.

* * *

I know it seems left field, but read the summary folks :D This is what I had been intending since last February.

Don't forget to drop a line too, folks! I can't BELIEVE the feedback I have been recieving for this! It's amazing! Like, seriously!

Is muchly WOW

Peace out, homebrahs.


	19. Chapter 19

sdkjsjdksladj

So late.

I'm so sorry.

Next chapter will be up withing a week. I swears.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Yeah. Like that's legal protection.

* * *

"Tell us _everything."_

There was a curious, borderline wicked smile on Meilins' face as she turned to regard one of her eldest friends. Like most in Ba Sing Se, she took in the horror stories of the Dai Li with a horrified, fascinated interest, hating to hear the all too numerous anecdotes of the victims, yet oddly craving them all the same. Opposite her, sitting backwards on the creaking chair, a bony, unshaven chin resting on the back, Meng winced.

"I don't know what there is to tell." The wooden back was too uncomfortable to lean upon, so he clutched the frame with his fingers, although the pale, dirt-caked skin stretched across sinew and bone did nothing to cushion his chin. "You guys were there... You saw what happened."

"Hell yeah we saw what happened!" Tao cried. "You pulled a house down on top of that Dai Li agent! That was amazing!"

"Yeah..." Meng gave a little shrug, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I guess it was kinda cool." He sighed deeply, closing his eyes. "I paid for it though. Dearly."

"We thought you would have been like, executed." Dai Shi murmured from his position near the foot of the bed. He leaned against the wall, ankles dangling over the side of the thin mattress. Meilin's bare feet were stretched out across his lap, the young man gently massaging a herbal ointment into her swollen ankles in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort.

"To be honest, I'm amazed I wasn't too." Meng swallowed. "But Long Feng said I-"

"Woa, wait!" Tao broke in. "You saw _Long Feng?"_

"Unfortunately." Meng blew at the hair in his face. "For a few seconds. He looked me up and down whilst I was in chains, said that I was just a kid, and ordered me locked up 'for now'."

"What, so they meant to kill you later?" Meilin breathed, enthralled.

"Probably." Meng's eyes were fixated on the ground. "Well, I'm twenty-one now, which definitely constitutes being an adult. I think they all just forgot. Or maybe they decided life is worse. In that place – it was." He gave an odd little shake of the head. "It's not worth it to make trouble guys. Not to go through that hell. _Please _tell me you've all been keeping your noses clean." Meng lifted his head, giving each of the young adults a pleading look. "Nothing big."

"_I'm_ not going to risk it." Meilin consoled her friend, a hand resting on her swollen stomach. "I'd have the kid in prison and have it taken away. I might not have _planned_ this, but I still want it now..."

"I want to." Dai Shi admitted. "Every day, when I see them and think about what they've done, not just to you, but to everyone..." He swallowed. "But I'm no good to Meilin locked up, and I'd rather die than become one of their brainwashed puppets."

"Happened to my brother." Tao said simply – not in an attempt to garner pity from Meng, but as a simple fact. "Six months ago, he got caught talking to one of the refugees about the war. They both went missing. He turned up a week later, but he wasn't the same after that. Aunty Lin is furious." He winced at the thought of his siblings' caregiver.

"She still a hard woman?" Meng had to chuckle, despite himself.

"Ha, you have _no_ idea." Yang smirked. "The moment Tao turned eighteen, he was out of there. Never seen a woman so uptight before."

"Oh, whatever." Tao grumbled, rising from his crosslegged position on the floor, arching his back in a stretch. "Hungry Meng?"

"Nah, I'm fine." Meng waved off the offer gratefully. "I ate whilst I was at the Monkey, taking care of Ku- of the weird guy."

"Who _is_ he?" Meilin demanded, a frown creasing her forehead. "He's definitely not Lower Ring. Did you hear how funny he talked?"

"Yeah." Yang agreed. "Was he like, some sort of nobleman or something? What were you doing with him?"

"... Uh." Meng's features were pulled into a deep frown, the young man thinking very hard. "I... I guess I could tell you guys... But you have to _promise_ to keep it secret. I mean it. If you tell anyone and it gets out, then his life is in danger."

"Whose life is in danger?" Dai Shi demanded eagerly, leaning forward a little in anticipation. "Who was he? Someone important who annoyed the Dai Li?"

"Yeah, you could say that." Meng chewed on his lower lip. "Um... It was the Earth King."

"What?"

"_No!"_

"You're _kidding!"_

The other four stared at Meng openmouthed, their shock throwing the momentarily raucous room into stunned silence. Meilin was the first to speak, looking very, very troubled.

"Um... Meng." Her voice shook. "Why is the _Earth King_ in trouble with the Dai Li?" Meilin stared at Meng intently, demanding an answer from the young man. "What's h-happening?"

"You guys need to know." Meng's mouth was dry. "And you can tell this to as many people as you can. In fact, spread the news. Make sure everyone is safe and prepared."

"Prepared from what?" Dai Shi breathed, rattled to the core by the sheer expression of blank horror on Meng's face. "What _happened?"_

"We've lost." Meng rested his forehead on trembling knuckles. "N-Not just the Earth King, not just Ba Sing Se, the entire nation, the fucking _world_ now, it's just-"

"We've lost?" Meilins' voice rose, breaking across Meng's distracted mutterings. "Lost what?"

"The _war!"_ He gritted his teeth, raising his head and hitting the back of his chair. "The war Meilin, it's _over_. Princess Azula, Fire Lord Ozai's _daughter_ infiltrated the Palace, overthrew Long Feng and the Earth King, and defeated the Avatar." Meng closed his eyes, unable to look at the other faces turned towards him, knowing how contorted in sickening horror they would be. "Th-The people I spoke to, who took the Earth King in, say that the Fire Nation troops will be here in a couple of days, to s-secure the city." He didn't want to face it, didn't want to _think_ about it.

"_How?_ This city i-it's meant to be impenetrable!" Tao voiced what the others were all thinking. "How did that Princess get through the walls?"

"Disguise." Meng whispered, hands shaking. "She fooled everyone into thinking she was an Earth Kingdom warrior and took command of the Dai Li... Clever little..." He trailed off, letting the curse dangle from the edge of his lips, unspoken.

"So what?" Meilin sounded withdrawn and pale. "What happens to us?"

"I don't know." Meng was lost for words. "The people I spoke to..." He didn't release names, of course, for security purposes, "They thought – hoped – that we would just be left alone mainly. Maybe have taxes hiked, to try and squeeze much money out of us as possible. They won't burn Ba Sing Se down, we're too valuable. Apparently."

"This isn't happening." Dai Shi moaned, head in his hands. "This... Is just one big fucked-up... _How?_ What the _hell?_ Where is the Avatar in this! What do you mean defeated, he lost the fight, or dead or what?"

"It's not clear." Meng said quickly, rubbing at his aching eyes. _So tired..._ "I don't know." Oh, he did know, Minsheng told him in detail how their informant at the palace had reported the Bison escaping, with a barely-alive Avatar, his friends, Prince Zuko, and Jin. _Jin was gone_, she had left Ba Sing Se, joining the most hunted person in the entire world, and yet, ironically, she was safer than she would be if she had stayed with Meng. _What is going to happen to this city? Are we going to be one of the ones that are rules with an iron fist, drained of every piece we make through tyrannical taxes? Or will we simply be burned to the ground? Or will we be run out and left to starve in the countryside? Or sold off as slaves for the Fire Nation?_ Either predicament was sickening, horrific – and totally plausible. It had all happened before. Meng had heard of it.

"I have to go." He spoke after a minute or so of tense, uncomfortable, painful silence. "No one knows I'm back yet... I have to go talk to my mother." Something ached in Meng's chest. _I miss her so much..._ He was a momma's boy, at heart. He was the first-born, the adored golden child. How could he not be, really?

"'Course." Meilin's voice was hoarse. "You other two better go as well... I-It's gonna get dark..."

"Well walk you home." Tao offered as he stood up, forcing a tiny smile. "It's on the way, pretty much."

"All right." Meng agreed, looking and feeling stiff and wooden. He followed the other two down the creaking, lopsided ladder, lightly treading along the dark, narrow hallway, a claustrophobic crawl space between two cramped apartments. He kept his eyes open, not to try and see through the dark, but to keep the images from his head at bay, the half-memories and sick fantasies flashing through his mind with a sharper clarity when the lids were closed. It was exhaustion – sleep deprivation and intense stress were catching up on him. The fact his sanity hung by a threat after four agonizing years of solitary confinement probably didn't help much.

_I don't know what's going to happen… if we're going to make it out of this, if Jin is going to be okay… Nothing. It's all a blank. But even though this future is nothing but a big haze of uncertainty and turbulence and possible death, it's better than jail. I think._

His stomach hurt, the organ squeezing the lumpy remnants of food into an uncomfortable ball, like a fist.

_I __**hope**_.

* * *

"You're awake?"

Jin's reply was a soft groan, muffled by the carefully folded shirt, serving as a crude pillow for the semi-conscious girl. She was vaguely aware of a gentle hand on her shoulder, the tentative grip firming, slowly coaxing her to roll over from her protective foetal position and onto her back. Jin obeyed with another soft moan, lifting a clumsy, lifeless hand to rub at her eyes.

"Hey." Jin blinked, her voice dry and trembling. "Where..."

"You're in Ba Sing Se." Zuko leaned over the girl, one hand gently stroking the side of her face, pushing the loose strands of still-damp hair away from her cheek. "Safe. And that's all that matters."

"What _happened?"_ Jin spoke up, and slowly pushed herself into a sitting position, struggling with half-numb arms. "We…" She narrowed leaf-green eyes, trying so hard to think. "Went to the palace..." Jin started, and lifted her gaze with a snap, staring Zuko in the eye. "The Avatar."

"He's fine." It was a half-truth. Zuko leaned against the wall, with his knees pulled up to his chest, legs crossed at the ankle. "They're all fine. They'll be miles and miles away from now." He swallowed, his Adams Apple shifting uncomfortably. "Do you remember anything else."

"Yeah." Jin rubbed at her head. "Water... I remember falling into water... I think... Does that make sense to you?"

"It makes perfect sense to me." Zuko said painfully, eyes focused on the poor excuse of a mattress Jin had been forced to sleep on. "You fell off the Avatar's bison and into Lake Laogai. You… You almost died Jin." He swallowed as his chest stung afresh with the painful memory. "You weren't breathing..."

"Oh, Zuko." Jin pulled herself over to the teenager, leaning against the sagging wall. "It's okay. I-"

"_No."_ He pulled away from her, his voice harsh and biting. Jin recoiled in shock, hurt. "It's _not_ okay Jin. _Nothing_ is okay."

"Zuko-"

"Uncle is gone!" Zuko burst out, hands trembling. Jin froze. "He's a _prisoner_ in the Palace, and it's because of me! It is _my_ fault he's in there!"

"Oh, Zuko-"

"And you know why? He sacrificed himself for me. He didn't care, as long as _I_ did what was right and good for everyone. How damn noble and selfless is that?" His voice cracked, and he swallowed, eyes stinging painfully. "I _lied_ to him. I said that I would never join Aang, that my destiny was to do my fathers' bidding."

"Oh, _Zuko."_ She caught him, wrapping her arms about his shoulders in a tight embrace. He was still, unmoving in her grasp, refusing to recognize her embrace. "I'm so sorry."

"I did it for you." Zuko was crying. She bit her lip to stifle a gasp, insides swelling with horrific shock and guilt. "Azula was going to kill you… Remember?"

"Yes." Jin screwed her eyes shut tight, feeling sick. "Oh Zuko, you _didn't_."

"I wouldn't be responsible for your death." Zuko stated. A tear trickled along the bridge of his nose, gathering on the tip, until the drip was large enough to splash on his clothes. He refused to wipe them away. To do so would acknowledge their existence. "I've hurt so many people Jin... And I can't add you to the list. Not when I was the one who got you in that mess. I couldn't address the possibility of losing you to Azula."

"But your _Uncle._"

"It wasn't just for your benefit." It was, oddly, meant to make her feel better, and it did – marginally. "I needed to fool Azula, to convince her that I was on her side, to give Aang and Katara enough time to escape."

"So you two were finally able to work together?" Jin managed a microscopic smile. "Zuko, that's _great! _I-"

"No." He cut over her flatly, voice dull and lifeless. Jin pulled back with a frown. "It's not. I did something _horrible_ Jin."

"... What?" She asked, still feeling irreparably guilty for forcing Zuko to hurt Iroh. "Zuko, what did you do?" Her voice was so sharp, urgent, that Zuko was coaxed into an immediate reply, the words tumbling out of his mouth in a hurried rush, as though if he would speak the words, they would somehow be less painful.

"I attacked her." Jin's eyes widened as Zuko's head dropped into his arms, which encircled his knees.

"_No."_ Her arm, which was still draped across Zuko's back, tightened. She was becoming more alert with every passing second, her fingertips slowly growing more responsive. "What did she do?" It was Jin's immediate rationalisation. Katara had to have done _something_ to Zuko, to push him that far. There was no way that he would just launch into an unprovoked attack. Jin knew Zuko inside and out, knew how easy it was to set him off and put him into a flying rage. She had grown dangerously close several times, totally unaware how far she was pushing him, until it was too late. It was one of the few traits of his that set alarm bells off in Jin's head. It wasn't just a short temper – she could deal with naturally grumpy men – it was a real problem that Zuko had. She didn't know how to help, she wasn't sure if there was any way she _could._ How could she undo a lifetime of psychological damage in a few short months? Besides, it was more than a product of negligence and subtle mistreatment. No matter how changed Zuko was, how often he renounced all claims he had to the Fire Nation throne and how ill he spoke of his father, the fact remained that he was Fire Lord Ozai's son. He was bound to carry on some of his traits, be they looks, ability, or personality. His rage sent a shiver of fear through Jin's stomach – it was the only thing that truly frightened her about Zuko.

"She just said a lot of nasty things." Zuko muttered, not raising his head. "I'm a horrible person, I don't deserve anything, I'm egotistical. And she refused to admit I helped her today."

"Ooh, that little…" Jin trailed off, jaw set as she leaned into Zuko's shoulder. "It's okay Zuko. We'll figure this out. Just give her some time to cool off, and-"

"I _can't_ just give it time to cool off!" Zuko stood up, causing Jin to start. "I _attacked_ Katara! Honestly, do you think that Aang will want me around after that? It's obvious he thinks the world of her, he'll never trust me! None of them will ever trust me!" He was shaking, voice rising steadily. "I gave _everything_ to them today!" Zuko kicked at a warped timber box, Jin shrinking away wide-eyed. "I lost Uncle, I lost the very last shred of hope of returning home, and I almost lost _you_, and for what?" He picked up the battered crate, the timber combusting in his hands. Jin winced as he threw the flaming wood against the wall, balling her hands to mask the trembling. "For _nothing! Nothing_ Jin! That's what Katara thinks of me! That's what I gained from this!" He leaned against the wall, and slid to the floor, the flames dying on the spent, charred wood. "That's what I _am."_

"Oh _Zuko."_ Jin rushed across the room, sinking to her knees in front of the young male. "You're _not_ nothing." She took his chin firmly, forcing Zuko to look her in the eye. "Don't ever think that." She refused to let her voice or her hand shake, refused to crumble in her resolve. "You are the strongest, kindest person I know, Zuko. Really."

"Then you must know a lot of stinkers." He muttered, spoke glumly, pulling his chin away and looking downward. "I'm not strong! If I was, I would have defeated Azula. If I was kind, I wouldn't have attacked Katara!"

"Oh, shut _up!"_ Jin blurted out, incensed. "Listen to yourself! Katara forced it out of you! She's been wearing you down all night, of course she was finally going to get to you! To be honest, it was probably part of her plan, to try and get you to crack. And Azula… She's _insane_. Has anyone managed to get the better of her? No." She settled back a bit, licking her lips, thinking. "Look Zuko, you have two choices. You can either sit here, feeling sorry for yourself while the world crashes down around your ears, or you can stand up and _do_ something."

"Like what?" Zuko lifted his head, confusion obvious. "I can't _do_ anything Jin. Not alone. I've _never_ done well by myself."

"Oh honey, you're not alone." One hand cupped the back of Zuko's head, long tanned fingers gently combing the feathery dark strands. "I'm here." Without another word, Jin engulfed the boy in a tight embrace, feeling the roughened skin of his scar brushing her cheek. Jin thought that Zuko would be unresponsive, or worse, push her away, but much to her surprise, he wound his arms around her shoulders, relaxing into the soft, warm figure. "I know I'm not your Uncle," Jin murmured, voice slightly muffled. "And I know you can't trust me like him, but please Zuko, let me help you." She pulled away, the corners of her lips twitching in a smile.

"Jin." Zuko spoke simply, not knowing what else to say. "I… I don't deserve you." He muttered, fixing his gaze upon the ground. "I… I really don't."

"You're being stupid now." She refused to indulge his self-piteous wallowing, and instead turned away, grasping for the nearly-dried threads of clothing. "You _do_ deserve me. You deserve to have someone to be there for you and love you and if you dare say different, I'll hit you." Jin straightened, pulling on her yellow underdress with a smile. "I see you undressed me, too."

"I-I'm so sorry about that." Zuko was snapped out of his reverie, scratching the back of his head and not looking at her. "It's just… your clothes were soaking and you were so cold, and I didn't know what else to do, how to keep you warm…"

"Oh, don't be silly Zuko." Jin threaded her arms through the leaf-coloured overdress. "I'm not mad at you in the slightest. You would be the last person to try anything funny on me, I know that. You're intentions were sweet." She paused, hands suspended in mid-air, clasping her sash. "And to be frank, it wouldn't be the first time someone stripped me whilst I was passed out…"

"_What?"_ Zuko stood up, his own worries forgotten. "Who did that to you? When? I'll kill them! Tell me who it was!"

"Zuko, calm down." There was an odd, closed expression on her face. "Who it was doesn't matter. I asked for it. And it was a long time ago. I'm over it. All of… that."

"How could you have asked for it?" Zuko didn't understand. "Jin, no one _asks_ for that. You can't-"

"You know, if it wasn't you saying this, I'd think you were an idiot." Jin said bluntly, raking her fingers through her hair. The thin ribbon holding her braid together had fallen out someone en route, leaving her to improvise. "I can't believe you haven't clicked yet."

"Clicked on what?" Zuko frowned, watching as Jin groaned in frustration, tugging on fistfuls of hair.

"That I'm damaged goods, Zuko!" Spirits, it was such a crude term. "That I've slept with more guys than I have fingers and toes, that I'm common, I'm easy, that I'm _cheap!"_ Her teeth were set tightly, the girl refusing to let the stinging tears in her eyes fall. She was angry, furious, at Zuko for being so damn _dense_ that she had to spell it out so loudly and plainly. It wasn't _fair _on her.

"Jin…" Zuko didn't know what to say. There was a sick, hot feeling bubbling in his stomach, realisation that the little backstory he'd built up for Jin in lieu of an explanation was a sweeping misconception. He knew he wasn't the first guy she'd gone out with, she'd stated so plainly herself, but he never would have _imagined_ that she'd gone so far with so many. "Jin, I don't care about that." He lied, taking her hands and looking her in the eye. "Please, listen to me. I don't care. That doesn't mean anything to me. And it shouldn't do you."

"Oh, don't lie." She spoke bitterly, wrenching her hands away. "I know how much pride and honour and all that means to you. I know how much you respect women and build them up to be these goddesses."

"I don't-"

"And I can see how horrified you are." Jin overrode him, swallowing. "Your expression, Zuko. You didn't even try to mask it at first. You find it disgusting."

"No." He was panicking. "No, Jin, I don't." Zuko licked his lips. "Please… Stop thinking like this. I never thought of you as a cheap peasant, I swear. I never even thought about that sort of thing. Don't do this to yourself Jin." His mouth was dry. "Please."

"I'm not a diamond in the rough, Zuko." Jin's voice was very small. "I'm just as gritty and dirty as everyone else. I'm not your delicate little flower."

"I know." Zuko kept a tremor out of his voice. "I never thought _that_ about you Jin. You're far too headstrong and outspoken and tough to be considered delicate. But I never thought…"

"That I was quite so terrible?" She turned away, staring out of the tiny window.

"You're not terrible." He argued, watching her figure tighten. "Don't think for a second you are." Zuko himself crouched down, pulling on his shoes. "Jin, if I sat here and said that it changed everything and I couldn't be near you… I would be the biggest damn hypocrite in the world. And I don't feel like that, besides." He added quickly, heart rate picking up. "I… I love you. Okay?"

Jin bit her lip. She closed her eyes, feeling the soft warmth of his gentle words snake around her insides. _He said it he said it he __**said it**__ and it's true, every word._ Instinctively, Jin reached for the necklace at her throat, stomaching dropping as her shaking hand clasped around empty air. _Right... It's gone. I forgot..._

"I love you too." She smiled, a stretching twinge of the mouth. _More. _Jin declared stubbornly in her mind. The girl froze, somewhat confused as she felt a pair of arms encircle around her middle, a bony chin resting on her shoulder. "Aw."

"Thank you." Zuko's arms shifted to the slight dip beneath her collarbone, hold tightening. His breath was almost scalding Jin's shoulder, but she didn't move. "What do I do Jin?" Zuko's nose pressed against the crook of her neck. "I-I can't even think."

"Then don't." She turned, Zuko tensing as she faced him. His hands rested on the curve of her waist, their noses almost touching. "You're going to be okay." Jin traced her hand along his good cheek, touch so light she touched not the skin, but the slowly thickening hairs. "We're going to be okay." She stretched her lips into a tiny smile, willing Zuko to do the same. "It's going to work out."

"How?" He wrenched himself free of Jin, turning away and grabbing handfuls of shaggy black hair. "I-I don't... They _hate_ me Jin, more than ever! And Uncle... Oh Agni, _Uncle."_ Zuko directed his gaze back towards Jin, clinging to her sleeves. "We have to go back Jin, we have to rescue him, we can break him out and-"

"Zuko, _no."_ She spoke firmly, heart breaking. "We can't just go and break him out. He's going to be so closely guarded, it's impossible."

"It's not!" His teeth were set. "Jin, we can't leave him there! You know what Azula and my Father will do to him! I can't let that happen! _We_ can't let that happen! If we-"

"Zuko, _stop_ it!" She cut over him, teeth gritted and eyes watering. "We _can't_ do it! I am not letting you just walk to your death, you idiot! I am sorry about Iroh, I really am, but there is nothing we can do about it." She swallowed, staring at the grimy floorboards. Jin just couldn't look Zuko in the eye. She knew the expression that would be written on his face. "We have to just hope that he can take care of himself."

"How can you _say_ that?" Zuko shouted, seizing Jin's shoulders. "How!" Jin screwed her eyes shut, breathing ragged. "I lied to him Jin!" He was shaking her, voice cracking as he yelled. "For _you!_ I lied to him and let him go for _you!"_

"I didn't ask you to do that!" Jin kept her eyes closed, trembling fingers encircling Zuko's wrists in an attempt to pull him off. "That was your decision, Zuko!"

"What, I was just meant to let Azula kill you?" His breathing was little more than uneven gasps. "Huh?" Zuko shook her roughly, beside himself. "Tell me!"

"I don't know!" Jin cringed away from Zuko, trying to hide her crying. "I-I don't know..."

"Of course I'm not going to do that!" His grip was painfully tight. "Agni Jin, you- you can't even..." Zuko broke off, head bowed. "Anyone, I could lose _anyone_, and I wouldn't care in the slightest... But when I saw you with Azula... Something just broke in me. I couldn't even think – I just... I..." The teenager pulled away, standing out the window. Fifteen agonizing minutes stretched by, a thick wall of silence pressed up between the young lovers. While Zuko bubbled away, stewing in his inner grief silently, whilst Jin cast her mind about desperately, trying to think of something – anything – that could break the torturous silence.

"And I'm so sorry." Jin finally murmured, blotting her eyes with her hem. "You don't know how sorry I am Zuko. I know how much he meant to you... and if there was any way, I would be all for it. But we c-can't." Zuko's hands were on the warped windowsill, head bowed. "Do you think that would be what he wanted?"

"I know what he wants." Zuko spoke bitterly. "You know. Better than me, apparently." A knot tightened in his stomach. "I've failed him again."

"No." Jin took one of his hands, shaking her head. "Zuko you haven't failed him. _Think _about it. If it wasn't for you, the Avatar would be dead, the Earth King would be imprisoned... Things would be so much worse for everyone. You were a hero today."

"A hero who attacked Katara." Zuko refused to budge in his conviction. "Who made himself _permanent_ enemies with Aang. Who lost his temper and lashed out, _again._" He pulled his hand away, jaw set like a rock.

"Let it go, Zuko." Jin pleaded. "Don't ruminate on it. You'll only feel worse." She cast her eyes to the ceiling, thinking deeply. "Look... Perhaps there is some other way for you to help the world. You're still one of the most important players in this game Zuko. Don't count yourself out just because you can't join the Avatar yet."

"No." Zuko shook his head firmly. "Not without my Uncle. I wouldn't know what to do, where to start. The last time were separated, it went horribly wrong. I can't do anything on my own." He kicked at the wall. "It's pathetic." _I'm pathetic._

"You're not alone." Jin ventured cautiously. "Zuko... I know it doesn't count for much and I'm not a warrior or a fighter or a strategist or anything, but I can still help you somehow. I'm not stupid."

"Oh Jin." He turned to her, shoulders slumped. "You don't know what you're saying. You don't want to involve yourself in this War."

"I already have." Jin argued. "And... I know it didn't go so well..." She winced. "But I still want to help you." The girl took Zuko's hand once more. "Why should I stay in Ba Sing Se? Zuko, I have a _record._ I'm one incident away from being taken away by the Dai Li. And the troublemakers will go first. They'll be the examples." She bit her lip. "I'm not safe here."

"You're not safe anywhere." Zuko sighed, taking Jin in a tight embrace. "Especially if you choose to stick around with me."

"I'm not going to leave you." Jin relaxed in Zuko's hold, closing her eyes. "I-I don't care about the cost. Do you know what it was like before you?" Long fingers curled in Zuko's robe. "It was nothing, Zuko. Just this big empty pit that I tried to fill, with drinking and boys and trouble. _I_ was nothing. People treated me like I was nothing, I earned next to nothing, I had nothing to call my own. I had nothing to _care_ about. Sure, I have my family, and I love them to bits but at the same time, they drive me insane. And we were all in so much pain, no one had a scrap of comfort to lend to one another. I would wake up, knowing exactly what was going to happen every day. I could go through it with my eyes closed and fingers in my ears, and no one would notice." She sniffed. "I can't go back to that kind of life. I can't go back to that... that _nothing._" Jin suppressed a minor shudder, feeling Zuko's hold tighten on her.

"All right." Zuko nodded, pulling away so he could look her in the face. He wasn't going to argue with her. He didn't _want_ to. The thought of being alone terrified him almost as much as being returned to his father. If Jin was prepared to follow him to whatever end, he wasn't going to fight with her. He _needed_ her. "So... Whatever happens..." He swallowed, forcing a smile. It faltered after a heartbeat, however. Zuko's soul just wasn't in it. "Together?"

"Wouldn't have it any other way." She smiled, a real, genuine smile that warmed Zuko, to the tips of her toes. "Now c'mon. The light's starting to fail and I don't wanna be here when it gets dark."

"Uh, okay." Zuko nodded as she pulled herself free. Jin pottered around the room, half-groping in the gloom for anything that may have been left behind. "So where are we going?"

"Somewhere where we can have as much food and drink as we like and the owners won't even consider turning us in." Jin straightened. "Home."

* * *

_Damn it Meng, just open the bloody door!_

He'd been standing on the threshold for a good five minutes, a clenched fist hovering inches from the scratched panelling. _Why are you so scared about this?_ He wanted to smack his head against the door, cursing his own foolishness, but desisted. _They'll be happy to see you. Jin said so herself. Why do you have any reason to not come home?_

Because. Meng swallowed. He knew the reason. The change. He was secretly terrified. It was a horrible jolt, to see Jin after four years, so much older, matured, changed. Meng knew that it was inevitable – the world didn't stop turning for him whilst he was in jail, and his siblings and parents were bound to age – but nevertheless the trepidation and uncertainty rose in his stomach as the minutes ticked by._ Will they even recognise me?_ _I bet I look different. Of course I do. _Meng was chewing on his lower lip. _But my friends recognized me... And I'm sure my family will too._

_Just open the damn door!_

Inhaling a deep lungful of air, Meng turned the brass handle, pushing his weight on the door – which often stuck – in an attempt to open it. He was met with resistance, however, the door refusing to budge an inch. The man paused, resting a hand on a hip as he frowned. _What the..._ He tried again, but was met with the same refusal. It was locked. _It was never locked... We never had anything to steal. They must be afraid of some sort of invasion..._

Meng collected himself, and with another deep breath, the first wasted, he knocked firmly on the door, hearing the dull, hollow thud fill the hallway. He could make out a soft pattering of child's feet, and a second later, the deadbolt was drawn, the door pulled open. A freckly-faced child of five stood on the threshold, looking up at him with confusion.

"Hello?" Meng's breath died in his throat. "Can I help you, mister?"

"Ch-Chang?" He ventured cautiously. "Is... Is that really you?"

"Yes?" Chang cocked his head to one side, frowning. "Who are you?"

"Can I come in?" Meng avoided the question carefully, his hands shaking. Chang nodded, and pulled the door so Meng was able to enter the room. The man's stomach lurched as he studied the main room of the flat, nails digging into his palms. It was almost exactly the same. The same knick knacks gleaned on the narrow shelf above the stove, the same row of herb jars rested on the counter, the same plates were even stacked in the corner. All this he took in with a second, breath shaking.

"Chang, who was at the door?" Meng's head whirled as Shan's voice crept along the hallway. "Did you let them in?"

"It's some guy." Chang called back, looking at Meng a little suspiciously. "He knows my name though." Shan's figure loomed in the doorway, arms clutching a woven wash basket piled with dirty sheets.

"Well did you..." Shan trailed off as she stepped into the afternoon-lit room, eyes widening. The wash basket fell to the floor with a soft cry, off-white linen tumbling across the floor. She knew, Meng noticed, with another lurch of the stomach. _Of course she knows. I'm her son._ He couldn't take his eyes of the careworn woman, an odd horror building. She was older, greyer, thinner than Meng remembered. The picture he held in his mind, of a stout, smiling woman who was as hard as steel, crumbled in an instant. She'd aged in the past four years – badly. Although Shan was only thirty-four, she could pass as fifty. _I nearly killed her._..

"_Meng!"_ The word came out as a choked sob, Shan doubling over as her knees buckled. Meng sprang forward, managing to rescue her before she fell onto the floor.

"Yes Ma." He half-walked, half-carried his mother to her chair beside the stove, thinking that he himself would pass out. "I-I... I'm back." He tried to straighten himself, so he could sit in the other chair and talk, but Shan wound her bony arms around Meng's neck with an iron grip, refusing to let go. "I... I'm so sorry..." He swallowed, the back of his eyes burning. "I just... I'm so sorry Ma." Shan didn't say anything – she was sobbing so hard she could barely breathe, almost choking Meng. "I didn't want to hurt you." _Damn now I'm crying._ He sniffed pathetically, shaking his head. _And I expected less?_ "O-Or anyone." Meng tried to pull himself away, and once more, Shan's hold forced him to stay. The somewhat awkward position made his arms tremble with the strain, but he forced the sensations away, trying to hug his mother for as long as he could. But his touch was cautious, ginger. The embrace of this frail middle-aged woman was a far cry from the bone-crushing hugs he received as a young child, from a mother who was tall, straight, proud and strong. And it rattled him to the core.

_This isn't my mother._

Meng pulled away from the woman, sinking into the other chair with a sigh. He heard the muffled sob from his mother, the weak sniff as she wiped at her nose with a grubby handkerchief, but kept his hands folded in his lap, a twisting, sinewy maze of paper-thin skin and bones. The young man leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes. He could feel the eyes of his youngest brother, resting on him somewhat mistrustfully, and couldn't meet the child's gaze.

_That's not my baby brother._

Oh, how stubborn his mind was being! Meng felt a scream rise in his throat, a savage desire to burst into a fit of rage.

_This isn't my __**family.**_He wished he could cry again, find some pathetic, subdued outlet for his emotional tempest. Outwardly, he was a dry husk, brittle, hollow, and withered. Inwardly, he panicked. _This isn't Ma and Chang and Jin and it won't be Dad and Jiro and Hai they're all other people, who have lived, have lived and gone on for __**four years**__ while I've been locked up like a dog._

Meng hated the Dai Li – particularly Long Feng – more viciously, more agonizingly than he thought it possible. He wanted to attack them like a beast, crush them under stone and bury them alive. _They look my __**life**__ away. _His nails bit onto the wooden armrests, teeth grinding against each other. Meng could only take a fragment of pleasure from the knowledge that Long Feng had lost it all, and faced only humiliation and imprisonment. Princess Azula could think up the sickest, most inventive and horrific brand of torture known to man, inflict it for no reason, and it would cause only a minute flicker in Meng's heart. Further pain wasn't going to regain the four years he had lost.

It should have quelled the rage in Meng's chest. It should have smothered the inferno – but it didn't. He was _aware_ of the helplessness of it – that nothing he could possibly do would ever reverse the situation, that the best thing he could do would be to put it behind himself, get on with it, and resume his normal routine. But it didn't make him feel settled, it didn't soothe. The basic, bloodthirsty instinct for savage revenge only increased at the thought.

He looked down at his hands, examined the grimy skin, so pale it seemed translucent, the blue veins jutting out plainly. Meng released his grasp on the chair, turning his hands so he could look at the palms. More pale, more visible bones and veins, more dirt. With a shudder, Meng sat on his hands, not wanting to look at them, not wanting to associate the shrunken appendages with himself. _They're not mine they belong to someone else this is still some kind of sick twisted nightmare. _He closed his eyes, head bowed. Nightmare. This was _worse_.

"Ma." He choked out, daring to look to his right, peeking across at her. The woman stilled, and after a moment of frozen recognition, raised her gaze to her eldest son. "Ma... I need a bath of sorts... A-And... Some clothes."

"Yes." She stood up, the handkerchief disappearing somewhere inside her apron. Shan made her way to the large basin of water with an alarming rate. Busting and businesslike, she threw herself into the chore. "Of course honey... Just give me a few minutes to heat up some water." A large, clean saucepan of water was set on the stove with a pained groan, the tiny metal door pulled open, coal added. "I'll go and find some old clothes of your fathers... they might be a wee bit too short in the leg, but they'll do for now." She disappeared into the dark passage, leaving the two males alone in the room. Chang fingered one of his crude wooden toys, large olive eyes fixed carefully on the brother that he had never known.

"You look sick." He was painfully tactless. Meng's eyes darted upwards, regarding his brother for a second, before drifting back to his knees. He gave a tiny, vacant shrug. "Are you sick?"

"... I suppose." Meng's voice was a dry rasp. "In a way." His head sank to his hands, elbows propped up on the wooden arms. _Sick. Insane. Maybe._ The man was drained, exhausted beyond belief. How long had it been, how many months, since he had slept a full night? How many times had he been jerked awake by a clang of metal, an anguished sob, a scream? How many times had he lain in a catatonic state, half-awake, half-dreaming, unable to distinguish fiction from reality? His trances lasted for days, where only the brutish jab, a kick or a punch from a guard who noticed his food had been totally untouched, snapped him free. _**Maybe**__insane?_

"Honey." Meng snapped awake as Shan shook his arm gently. "I've got a bucket of hot water and soap in Jin's room. I laid out some clothes, too."

"Jin's room?" He mumbled with a frown. "When did she..."

"Oh. Right." A pained expression crossed her face. "I'm sorry. It's... It's the old storeroom." The handkerchief found dim indoor light, for just a moment. "Second door on the left."

"I got it." He stood up, joints aching. Meng felt enfeebled as he made his way to the room that had changed, brushing his fingers along the wall to establish his bearings in the dark – He'd felt almost blinded all day, after being thrust into the bright, harsh sun, after four years of near-complete darkness. His head felt stuffed with cotton wool: thick, overfull, and yet oddly light.

This was better. Meng sighed as he closed the door behind himself, looking around the tiny room. The skylight had been pulled open, illuminating the space without exposing Meng to the too-bright sun. He knelt beside the water, lathering the sponge with the sweet-smelling soap, and closed his eyes tightly before removing his clothes. He wasn't going to look – he didn't want to see how wasted he had become. Just looking at his hands was enough to make Meng's stomach turn. He scrubbed at himself vigorously with the hard-bristled brush, working by touch and feel in the self-imposed darkness until the water was black and cold and every inch of his skin tingled painfully. Thusly satisfied, Meng fumbled around blindly for the coarse towel, finding it spread on Jin's stick of a bed alongside his new clothes. He pulled the well-darned shirt and trousers on without drying properly, wanting to dry his hair before the single towel was completely saturated.

"Meng?" His mother knocked on the door cautiously. "Can I come in?"

"Yes!" He called back, after a few halted attempts. The door swung open with a click, Shan smiling weakly at her son.

"You look... Better." She tried lamely, after examining him for a few moments. "Cleaner, at least."

"Thanks." Meng let the towel drop to the floor, unable to eke out any more water from his near-dreadlocked hair. He wasn't up for any further conversation, and watched dumbly as his mother picked up the disgusting rags that passed as clothing for four years, the towel, and the bucket of putrid water. He listened to her creak along the passage, knowing the process. She would throw the water out the window, scrub the bucket thoroughly before using it again, boil the towel twice in chemicals before washing it, and burn the clothes in the stove. It was a purification ritual, a cleansing. As though destroying the clothes he had worn, shifting the dirt that caked his skin for so long would peel back the last four years, revealing beneath the naïve, sturdy boy of sixteen.

_I wish._ He lay stretched out on Jin's bed, arms folded behind his head, staring at the dark ceiling. It was _heaven_, to sleep on a mattress, with _blankets_ and a pillow, instead of finding the softest piece of iron to curl up on. _This is something I can __**definitely**__ get used to though._

_I can't believe Jin has her own room now._ He though idly. _Lucky girl._

_... Where is she._ Meng curled up, facing the wall. _Where's the Avatar... Safe... I hope. I can't believe I let her go like that... What was I thinking? She's probably made herself an enemy of the Fire Nation now. A full-blown criminal. Guilty, in their eyes, for helping someone in trouble. I know how that feels all right._

_The world turned without me._ He sounded selfish, a spoiled child, plaintive and obstinate. But he _could not help it._ Meng lay on his back once more, arching his back and curling his toes in a long stretch. His limbs were leaden, mind vacantly drifting in and out of consciousness. Before he could fall completely asleep, however, a pair of large brown eyes fixated themselves in Meng's mind. Set in a small, rounded face, they stared at him accusingly. _Where did you go?_ The demand, although wordless, was obvious. _Why?_

Heart breaking, Meng buried his face in the pillow, shaking violently. _No no no no... She can't be changed she can't be different no her I'll go crazy if she is. Too much, it's too much and I can't take this I don't know what on earth to do anymore._

Despite the desperate train of thought, Meng eventually slipped into a doze, pure exhaustion forcing him to sleep, where he had nightmares about dead bodies strewn about dark rooms and kneeling in pools of blood, although they vanished from his mind by the time he woke.

* * *

uuughghghghghghhg

I could make up some bullshit about 'dark intrigue' and 'deep psychological analysis' but that was just emo melodrama. I tried to cut it out, but it just didn't work otherwise. It was too jarring. I'm such a terrible writer.

**CHAPTER 20 WILL BE WITHIN A WEEK.** That's a promise.


	20. Chapter 20

dfJchycuvgvcyu

I'm just going to quietly come in here, put this in, and slink away.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Sadly.

* * *

"So." Jin's hand rested on the doorhandle, fingers running gently along the battered metal. "You ready to meet my family, Zuko?" She'd been preparing him on the quiet walk over, putting a humorous spin on things to try and raise his spirits. The picture formed by the girl in his mind was pleasant and wholesome. Her mother Shan would love him, Jin promised, because Zuko had a clean record and knew how to treat a girl right. Her father Renshu would approve of his job in the upper ring, even though Zuko had lost the employment as quick as it came. Jiro would just be relieved his sister was seeing someone he didn't have an ongoing rivalry with, and her two younger brothers would clamour over one another to hear about the 'outside'. Zuko, who had no idea of how inner-city families functioned, was surprised, especially in consideration of Jin's less-than-stringent morals. They sounded just like Li's family, out in the country, Jin's relationship with Shan a mirrored image of Song and her mother. _So they're all the same. Why am I oddly surprised?_

"Uh, yeah." He blinked out of reverie, giving the girl a smile. Jin returned the expression, and giving Zuko's wrist a momentary clasp, pushed upon the battered door, which after Meng's entrance had remained unlocked.

Jin's shoulders sagged, a smile widening on her face as she stepped into the room, eyes fixing on the lean figure folded into her mothers' fireside chair, nodding off in the warmth and social comfort of the room. Engaged in a game of Kabufuda, gambling for matchsticks in lieu of any actual currency, Jiro and Hai looked up at the sound of Jin's entrance, forgotten cards tumbling to the table. Kneeling at the table with a growing pile of cut potatoes, Shan let out an odd cry in her throat, wordlessly rising and smothering her daughter in a bonecrushing hug.

"_You!" _The woman gasped, retreating after several moments and looking Jin up and down. "What were you _thinking_, you stupid thing!" Jin's eyes widened as she was subjected to another painful embrace, air squeezed from her lungs. "Running around in the Dai Li's _prison!" _Jin was held at arms' length, momentarily stunned. Zuko, hovering in the doorway, bit back a smile, ignored. "You have more sense than that, you silly girl! What if you had been captured! What if they just killed you on sight!" Jin hardly expected a heroes' welcome, but she thought this treatment was a little rough. "I-I can't even think of anything more dangerous you could have done!"

"But Ma-"

"_Don't_ you but me! I told you, years ago that you were not to go snooping around! I told you to let be! Do you think we could cope if we lost you too? I... Ooh, I am so _mad!_ You are in six different kinds of trouble girl, let me assure you!"

"But _Ma-"_

"I thought I raised you to know more than that!" Jin suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, slightly humiliated that Zuko got to witness her severe rebuking. Shan was starting to work into a rhythm – soon it would be impossible to even scream over her voice at the top of one's lungs. "You might as well run headlong into a fire you stupid girl! _Honestly_, how could you think it was a good idea, just walking right into the Dai Li's secret prison! I've never heard of anything so audacious-"

"But Ma, it _worked!"_ Jin finally managed to get more than two syllables in edgeways, stopping the woman in her tracks. "_Look!_ Meng is here, isn't he? We're both here, we're both safe, isn't that's what's important?"

"N-Now Jin." Shan stuttered, a good deal of wind taken out of her sails. Her younger siblings hid smiles behind hands, enjoying the telling-off, and Jin's slow victory. "I would have expected this from your brother, but not you. I thought you would know better! You were lucky. You were _very_ lucky that you weren't caught! Wh-who knows what they would have done to you, I-"

"With all due respect," Zuko finally spoke up from the shadowy doorway, seven pairs of eyes turning towards him. Mortified, he shuffled a little in his boots, looking only Jin in the eye. "I-I wouldn't have let that happen... M-Ma'am." He added self-consciously, at an utter loss of what else to say. Mollified, Shan's tight hold on her daughter slackened, and dissolved.

"You must be Lee." She murmured after a strained moment of silence, her mind obviously ticking over rapidly. "We've heard a lot about you from Jin."

"'Bout time we finally laid eyes on ye'." Renshu remarked, before replacing the clay stem of his pipe between his lips.

"Yes..." Zuko shot Jin a desperate glance. "I'm sorry I haven't made an effort before, there were just... circumstances... And..."

"Lee's been very busy." Jin added quickly, plastering a wide smile on her face. "You know he works and lives in the Upper Ring, it's hard to come down all the time."

"Yes." Shan shot Jin a dark look, the painful memory of two Dai Li agents rippling the surface.

"But you have nothing to worry about." Zuko tried to defend Jin. "I assure you, Jin was never in any real danger. We weren't seen by any of the Dai Li. In fact, I doubt they even know that your son is missing."

"Lee was in the army before he came to Ba Sing Se." Jin lied quickly, fleshing out a story she had been developing from the bones over the past half hour. "He's been formally trained in stealth operations and helped to bring down Fire Nation strongholds in the south." Her parents had no real idea of any details of the War – how were they to know? "He knew what he was doing."

"Well... As foolish and reckless as my daughter was, I must thank you, Lee." Shan spoke graciously. "You have... No idea how appreciated..." She swallowed, and after blotting at her eyes with the corner of her apron, regained her composure. "If there is anything, anything we can do to help, don't hesitate to ask."

"Actually Ma." Jin's voice took on a familiar, wheedling tone. Shan turned to her, arching an eyebrow. "Um, Lee's Uncle was arrested today. He kind of can't go home now, and-"

"Of course, of course." She took Zuko's hand on an impulse, shaking it quickly. "Lee, you stay as long as you need to. We'll squeeze you in somehow."

"I-I won't be here long." Zuko gave Jin a very pointed look. "I was just going to find an empty room at some place and-"

"Oh, don't be silly." Shan returned to her vegetables. "Save your money and bunk with the boys until something good comes up. In fact, I'll get you the address for Jing-Guo's office tomorrow, and you can go see him." With a renewed vigour, she swept the formidable pile of potatoes off the table and into the blackened cooking pot.

"He's our landlord." Jin explained, seeing the momentary confusion on Zuko's face. Gently, she took his arm, removing him from his awkward position at the door, guiding him to take a seat on one of the cushions that ringed the low table. "He's really nice. He charges a fair price for rent, and if something's broken and it's beyond your skill, he'll send someone out to fix it. He has a lot of houses and apartments throughout this side of the Lower Ring, I'm sure there's something he can find for you." Her hand found his, their fingers weaving together. "You'll be able set up a nice little place for yourself."

"Jin." He leaned close to the girl, to breathe in her ear. "I can't stay here forever. I have to join the others sooner or lat-"

"You know what I could go for?" Jin stood up quickly, her grip on Zuko's hand dissolving. He clung on for a second later, and when she rose, his hand was tossed back into his lap. "Tea. What do you think, Lee? Anyone else want something to drink?"

"Sure." He crossed his arms, annoyed. "... Anything but Jasmine."

"Of course." She smiled, not meeting him in the eye. Her mother watched, hawk-eyed, before crying out and seizing Jin by the wrist.

"What happened to your _hand?"_ The woman demanded, holding Jin's arm up to her eye-level, examining the wound closely. "Who did this to you?"

"Oh!" Jin's eyes widened in recognition the girl struck temporarily dumb. "I... It was... A-A um..." She looked over at Zuko, pleadingly, but with a twisting stab in the chest found him cold and unresponsive. "I fell. And hurt myself on a metal spike in the prison." She finished lamely, watching as her mother reached for the pestle and mortar on the mantle.

"Jin, don't try to lie to me." She spoke crisply, working busily as she rooted around the line of tightly screwed jars above the small counter. "Someone attacked you."

"One of the Dai Li." Jin lied, albeit much more convincingly. She watched her mother throw together oils, seeds, leaves in the small stone basin, grinding ingredients into a pungent pulp.

"You're the most foolish girl I've met." Renshu muttered damningly, fiddling about with his pipe. "This is it. Really. Ever privilege you have ever had is _gone._" Jin paled. "If you think you are going anywhere but work and home, you have another thing coming."

"Oh, come _on!"_ Jin complained. "Dad, that's not fair!" Anger rose in her chest. "You don't understand what hap-"

"Oh, I _know _what happened!" His pipe was slammed down with a loud _thud_, the man leaning forward angrily in his chair. "You _stupid _girl! Thinking you can just rush in, almost getting yourself _killed. _Look at yourself! Coming home covered in blood!"

"You can't do this!" She shot back, teeth gritted. "I am not a kid, you can't _ground _me for trying to do the right thing! You have no idea what I have been through today! What we have all been through today!" Jin's voice caught, the last syllable wobbling, but she forced the sensations down, keeping her chin up, and eyes levelled at her father. "If it weren't for us-"

"You are not _listening_ to me!" The man roared, bringing his fist with onto the arm of his chair. The room jumped. "You are the most-"

"No, _you_ are not listening to _me!"_ The tears spilled over. "H-How can you sit here, caring about an injured hand, trying to _ground me?_" Zuko jumped up with a start, anticipating the outburst. "Dad, we've _lost!_ We've lost _everything!"_ Zuko tried to support the girl, holding her arms, but Jin pulled away.

"What are you _talking _about?" Renshu snapped, irritated. Shan had stilled her hands, the other boys looking silently at Jin.

"She is talking about the Earth King." Meng finally spoke up after a length of confused silence. "About how he was... overthrown."

"_What?"_ Jiro started. "By who? Long Feng? I bet it was, that sneaky-"

"No, not Long Feng." Zuko resumed the narrative as Meng's head bowed, the young man obviously too overwhelmed for speech. "The Fire Lord's Daughter, Azula." There was a stunned silence. "She infiltrated the palace, a-and led a coup against the Earth King. The Dai Li assisted her. Ba Sing Se has... Fallen to the Fire Nation." Oh, how it made him sick to the stomach, to recite those words.

"B-But the Avatar-"

"He's dead." Jin burst out tearfully, breaking across her twin brother. Again, Zuko took hold of her arms. This time, Jin didn't struggle. She blotted at her eyes with the sleeve of her dress. "Azula k-killed him."

"Hai, take your younger brother to the bedroom." Shan's voice was trembling. "The both of you stay in there until I say so-"

"But Ma-"

"_No arguments."_ Her voice was unbelievably sharp. With a gulp, Hai rose to his feet, clasping the wrist of the youngest boy, who was unable to comprehend the magnitude of what Jin and Zuko had said. Their footsteps were the only sound in the room, coupled with the creaking thud of a door closing. "What happened." Meng sprang out of the chair, as his mothers' knees were clearly weak. "H-How..."

"Azula and her supporters stole the uniforms of Earth Kingdom allies. They entered the castle under pretence, and worked to gain the Earth King's trust. Then Azula persuaded Long Feng to hand control of the Dai Li over to her. She attempted to assassinate the Earth King, but he escaped with Meng's help." The other heads in the room turned to Meng, eyes widening. Zuko swallowed, and continued with his monologue. "The Avatar found out, and tried to stop Azula, but she mortally wounded him." Zuko accepted this, heavy-heartedly. He'd seen the condition he was in, he knew that there was next to no chance he had survived. "His friends escaped with his half-dead body, but Azula has Ba Sing Se." He helped Jin sit down, before kneeling himself, hands twisting in his lap.

"_What?"_ Jiro breathed. "A-And you mean... W-Wait, Meng helped the _Earth King_?"

"We all did." Meng spoke up heavily. "Lee and Jin helped the Avatar and his friends." He passed his hands over his face.

"It's how I got this." Jin explained weakly, raising her hand. "One of Azula's friends is an expert knife thrower." Shan let out a cry, hands over her mouth. "Only injury we all got, I-I mean, apart from the Avatar..."

"Oh, you _two."_ Shan burst into hopeless tears, overwhelmed. "I-I can't believe you would do something so..."

"Brave?" Jin suggested hopefully, Zuko's arm snaking across her back, squeezing a shoulder.

"Reckless!" She argued, scrabbling about for a handkerchief. "What were you playing at, trying to be heroes!"

"But the Earth King-"

"I don't give two hoots about the Earth King!" The woman snapped, eyes flashing at her son. "I care about _you._ Nothing is more important to me than you kids, you _know_ that Jin." The girl opened her mouth, with the plain intention of argument, but closed it again after a long moment. "The Earth King is just a lazy, spoiled figurehead. As though things would be any different with the Fire Lord in charge."

"Ma, you can't say that. We co-"

"Actually, she's right." Zuko gave Jin's twin an apologetic look for interrupting. "Usually, when the Fire Nation occupies a territory, they're somewhat civil. As long as you keep your head down and obey whatever new laws they put in place, they're not going to hurt you."

"What kind of new laws." Renshu was suspicious, pale.

"No bending, obviously." Zuko squeezed Jin's shoulder a second time, feeling her lean into his touch. "Um, they'll put in a curfew, but you've already got that... No after-dark gatherings..."

"Outlawed." Shan sniffed, and with a low groan, got off her chair, and onto her knees beside the table, returning to the pestle and mortar. "When my husband and I were children."

"Oh." Zuko blinked. He wasn't aware of that. "Um, taxes will go up, most likely."

"They're at almost half already." Renshu muttered. "The kids don't pay, being day labourers, but if you're contracted like me, or own your own business..."

"You get robbed." Shan finished brusquely. "Jin, hand." The girl extended the limb without hesitation, watching as she first cleaned the wound, with a rag and a bowl of water, before slapping on a tablespoonful of the paste with a wooden spatula, not wanting to get the smell on her hands. Jin hissed in pain, gritting her teeth. She'd forgotten how much it hurt, until the tissue was freshly aggravated.

"The only other big thing is people going missing, but..." Zuko spread his hands out on the table, biting on his lower lip.

"So we'll be fine." Meng was trying to sound calm. "There'll be a false invasion, a parade pretty much as they station their troops, and then we'll be okay."

"Ba Sing Se is far too valuable to destroy." Zuko looked down at his fingernails, and tried to scrape out the crescents of dirt. "Like Omashu. They could have brought it down but they installed a governor and mainly let it be."

"_Omashu?"_ Jiro started. "Wait, when was that taken over? We never heard about that!"

"Not surprised, it's way in the South." Zuko looked at the ceiling, trying to think. "It was some time in winter. Ba Sing Se is – _was _– the last stronghold left."

"So they've won entirely." Shan pinned the bandage around Jin's hand, sounding near tears. "And the Avatar failed us all again."

"Bastards." Jiro muttered. "All of them. I just don't _understand_. Was the Fire Nation not wealthy enough already? What do they have to gain from wiping out an entire race and attacking everyone else? It can't be money. Building all of their machines and raising an army would have cost them more than they would ever get from us."

"It's cheaper than you think." Zuko muttered, memories of his childhood coming back to him. "It's hard to explain, and I don't remember the theory quite right. But it can be economically beneficial to wage a war. Especially if you win. And you're forgetting what the Earth Kingdom itself is."

"What?" Jiro frowned.

"Millions and millions of acres of extremely fertile soil." Zuko explained. "It's a giant pantry, big enough to feed the entire population of the world five times over. The Fire Nation is a densely populated chain of volcanic islands. Land is the most expensive and valuable asset there." He remembered the denseness even of the Palace City, the comparatively small state of the Fire Nation palace in comparison to that of Ba Sing Se.

"Doesn't make it right." Jiro muttered with a scowl. "And how do you know this anyway?"

"I... learned it whilst in the Army." Zuko clarified lamely. "Help us to get a picture of the enemy and stuff." He looked down at his hands again, at a loss of how to continue. Was there anything at all, that he could really say, that would alleviate the fear that he knew gripped the family? _No._ His elbows found the surface of the low table, and he sank his head into his palms, emitting a long sigh. Jin's hand rubbed soothing circles on his back, the girl understanding in an instant the deep-seated source of his unease. Even though he no longer regarded himself as one of those who worked against the Earth Kingdom, he felt some responsibility for what had, and would, happen, even though he had fought so hard to foil his sisters' scheme. _What would they all say if I knew? Jin is in love with me, it clouds her judgement. And her brother is just grateful that I rescued him from that prison. The others don't have a connection like that. If they knew that I was Prince Zuko, son of the Fire Lord..._ He gave an involuntary tremor. _They would literally tear me apart, them and the rest of Ba Sing Se, if they could. Public torture and execution at the hands of those one who is trying to save them. The universe tries so hard to work against me, I'm actually about to laugh at the situation. It seems like such a... 'Me' way for things to end. Agni, I'm morbid._

"There's nothing that can be gained by fretting." Shan's mouth settled into a thin, hard line. With a subdued groan, the woman rose from the table, holding the wooden board, piled high with sliced potatoes. "We just need to get on with things. The world isn't going to stop turning over this. You all have work tomorrow and we have to keep our eyes out for something Meng could turn his hand to." She swept the potatoes into the cauldron, eyes crinkling as she gave her eldest a wan smile. "Not right now of course, you need to rest up and put your old weight back on." The ropy tendons spidering across the back of her hands tightened in reflex. "No one will want to hire a young man who is all skin and bone."

"I know." He mumbled, obviously paying his mother very little attention. His gaze was focused very intently on Zuko, trying to calculate what had happened. The gossip at the Dancing Monkey was that he and Jin had been seen atop the Avatar's Bison with the rest of his friends, arcing above the preposterous inner wall, and out of sight, presumably for safety. _Why is he here? And does this mean that the Avatar is in Ba Sing Se as well? Is he still alive?_ He burned to ask the question, but was wary of the implications of such a move. The less his ignorant family knew really, the better. It meant they weren't as likely to raise uncomfortable questions.

"Lee, you all right?" Jin rested her forehead against Zuko's temple, feeling him clench. "Do you want to have a lie down?"

"No." He muttered shortly. His chest felt once more, on the verge of collapse, as though his heart was merely propped up on a few charred matchsticks. He couldn't erase the image of his beloved Uncle from his mind, to his despair.

"Are you worried about missing dinner? Because I can wake you u-"

"I'm not hungry." Zuko cut over Shan without thinking, and cringed away, mortified. He raised his head, cheeks flushing. "Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm just so..." He sank his head back into his hands, the tremors returning in full force.

"Your Uncle?" Jin guessed, whispering in his ear. Zuko nodded glumly, the frail matchsticks swaying as she verbalised his anguish. _I can't collapse, not in front of everyone. I have to have my head held high and push everything down. It's hardly a new concept to me... They're never going to understand, so trying for a shred of sympathy isn't going to work. And it's not sympathy I want, anyway. I hate having others fawn all over me, trying to be soothing or compassionate, or whatever. I let people in and then they let me down. _But he was kidding himself, really. Zuko was not much of an island, nor did he have any desire to be. He _wanted_ to reach out to Jin, some pathetic, grasping streak lay deep in his soul, expressing the base desire to fling himself in her arms and dissolve into inconsolable tears. But he would never do so. At least, not _again_, and certainly not in the company of others. _Thank Agni I have Jin. Without her, I wouldn't cope._ He knew from experience, that when he was cut off completely, barred from human contact, things went pear-shaped very quickly. And wandering through the countryside, with a distinct goal, impossibly far away, but still very clearly etched on his brain, was _much_ easier than what lay before him now, with no future to speak of, his last hopes at regaining his honour little more than ashes dispersing in the wind, and those he desperately tried to ally himself with leaving him alone in the middle of a lake.

_You don't know how much you mean._ Perhaps, because Zuko would never bring himself to vocalise his feelings. What he was unaware of was that Jin already knew how he felt towards her. He had already laid his soul before her, and she read his emotions eagerly. Right now, she pressed herself against the young male, offering physical comfort with an arm around his shoulders, drawing him in almost forcefully. Around her, the family gradually ebbed into tight, uncomfortable conversation, no longer paying Zuko any heed, respectfully assuming that all that could be told at that time had been told.

"I won't leave you." She breathed the words softly, lips pressing against the shell of his ear in a kiss as the last syllable drifted away. "Not even if you send me away."

"Why would I do that?" He gave an odd, stiff little jerk, a start at what she had said. Drawing back, their eyes locked for a moment.

"I'm sure you would find a reason." She sounded almost defeated, her arm sliding down Zuko's back, and finding his hand, their fingers weaving together.

"No." Zuko said firmly, seized by a momentary flash of panic. "I-I wouldn't. I... Well, you know." He ducked his head, gave a self-conscious cough.

"Yes, I suppose I do." Her voice had a weirdly wry lilt to it, but Zuko let it past, the tension in his shoulders sagging as Jin returned to her previous position, pressed firmly against her side. "And you know too." She gave a half-chuckle, playing Zuko's game. "Even if you can be a bit of a jerk at times."

"Hey." Zuko mumbled half-heartedly, knowing really, that she was right. His other hand found Jin's injured palm, and he traced his fingers over the wound carefully, feeling her wince. "It was the worst luck that you got this... The blood all over your hand was what made you sl..." He trailed off as sick horror dawned, a wave of bile crashing in his chest, rising up his throat.

"Hm?" Jin angled her head so their eyes, inches apart, could meet. Zuko's face was chalk-white. "L-Lee? What's wrong?"

"... It's nothing." He eventually murmured after a long moment of silence. She frowned, unconvinced. "Jin, please, don't concern yourself with it. I'm just thinking crazy thoughts."

"All right." She lied, eyes narrowing in slight suspicion. She returned her face to where it was previously, however, trying to cast her mind back to the midday fiasco, in an attempt to pinpoint what Zuko was getting at.

Zuko, on the other hand, had to close his eyes, struggling to stop the earth wheeling beneath his feet. It made sense, _now._ The stupid, impossible chain of events, from randomly finding Katara, to his Uncles' easy surrender, and Jin's paralysis and injury... It wasn't luck, nor was it chance. It was something more, something divine. The Spirits themselves must have ordained it. Their influence over human affairs in such a manner was rare, but not unheard of, especially in such decisive moments. _Uncle Iroh said it himself, that it was unbelievable luck... He knew. What happened was meant to throw me with the Avatar, and join their side and break away from my father once and all cleanly. And Jin..._ His head swam, vision murky.

_She was meant to die._

* * *

It was a quiet night in Chameleon Bay.

_Too quiet._ Hakoda rested his chin on the apex of his folded leg, the other stretched out across the moon-bleached sand. It was late, the moon having passed its graceful crescendo, arching away from the small band of warriors and sinking into the horizon. _Call me paranoid, but I don't like it. After that small fleet of warships last night it died down instantly. No reinforcements, no retaliation. That's not normal._ There was a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, a knot that had formed as he watched his son ride off in the bison, nearly twenty-four hours earlier and tightened with each passing moment.

_Katara was in danger._ His hands were clenched, interlocked fingers laced around his raised shin. _My daughter... And I didn't go to help her. _He'd voiced these concerns to Bato earlier, in the afternoon. His closest friend reassuringly said that Sokka and Aang would take care of everything, after all, who better than the Avatar? Yet the knot in his stomach still grew, causing sleep to elude him, and any sort of food to stick uncomfortably in his throat. _If something has happened to her... I'll never forgive myself. Never._

Mind drifting back to warmer, comfortably memories, of his wife, his children as infants, of his mother strong, and healthy, Hakoda didn't notice the tiny black speck in the centre of the moon, growing larger and larger until it let out a roar, several hundred metres away from the beach. The chief jumped, heart seizing as he recognized the Bison. Springing from his seat on the sand, Hakoda made his way across the beach, clouds of sand rising from his boots as he ran to meet his children. Appa landed heavily, and with no further sound rolled over onto his side, eyes closed and mouth open, his consciousness giving way to pure exhaustion. With a gasp, Hakoda made his way to the untidy hudde of children, who slid off Appa's back with a simultaneous yelp. His heart froze as he caught sight of his daughter, on her knees and covered in blood, still looking stunned.

"Katara!" He collapsed at her side, wrapping his arms fiercely about her shoulders and leaning into her hair. Pulling back a little, Hakoda examined her frantically, trying to find the injured source of the blood. "Wh-What happened? Where are you hurt? Are you all right?" He heard a small, voice, barely above a whisper, say "I'm okay", but the plea fell on deaf ears.

"She's all right, Dad." Sokka was on his knees before Hakoda and Katara, resting a hand on her shoulder. Hakoda stilled, turning tear-filled eyes to his son. "It's not her blood." He swallowed, looking sick. "It's..." Sokka turned his attention to Aang, who Hakoda noticed for the first time lay face down in the sand, still motionless after the tumble he had taken. His stomach twisted painfully as Sokka turned the still figure onto his back, the bloodsoaked stain on his chest looking black in the moonlight.

"Wh-What happened?" On instinct, Hakoda tightened his hold on Katara, offering comfort as he felt the girl quake with silent sobs. "Who did this?"

"He took lightning to the chest." Toph, the only one still really capable of coherent speech, explained, dusting herself of as she stood beside Sokka. She was the lucky one – she couldn't see just how injured the boy was. "We all thought he was dead."

"Still beating." Sokka said hoarsely, a hand gently resting on Aang's chest, looking for the psersistent thudding of his heart. "But..." He lifted his hand away, the palm black under the moonlight.

"Getting knocked off Appa opened his wounds again. Katara!" Toph called sharply, directing her blind gaze to the girl, who had fallen to pieces all over again, surrendering herself to the comfort of her father. "Katara you have to close him up again."

"G-Got it." She wiped at her eyes, and stood, swaying a little on unsteady legs. "Sokka, can you-"

"On it." He lifted Aang gently, his face silvery in the moonlight, looking eerily deathlike. "Dad, we need a tent to put him in."

"I'll clear one out." Head still spinning, Hakoda ran ahead, and finding the smallest tent which held supplies. He cleared it quickly, sacks of food, bundles of sharpened spears, spare helmets, furs, and coils of rope tossed carelessly onto the sand. With a start, the man realised how pitch black it was inside, and hurried off to his own large tent to fetch an oil lantern. When he returned, heaving for air and battling an uncomfortable cramp in his stomach that more than likely had nothing at all to do with his recent flurry of movement, the children were piled inside, Katara's silvered hand barely illuminating the gloom.

"Here." He handed the lantern to his son, Sokka taking it with trembling hands. Sky-blue eyes were focused intently on Aang, the lamp throwing half of Sokka's face into shadow. Hakoda was struck by how old he appeared – closer to a man Hakoda's own age than a boy of sixteen. Fatigue, grief, and numb shock carving deep lines in his face as his features were pulled into heart-rendering expressions.

"I need more water." Katara's voice was small, tight. "D-Dad, can you?"

"'Course." Glad to do anything he could, eager to get away from the eerie image of the boy so near death, Hako fled from the tent, and pelted across the sand, heading for the cask of recently-collected river water in his tent.

"This is bad Sokka." Katara's cheeks were wet with tears. "I-I don't know if I can do enough to heal him... There's so much damage..."

"Just... Just do your best." Sokka breathed as he scooted closer to his sister. "I know you can, Katara. No one else could do a better job than you at this."

"Yugoda could." Katara sniffed, lifting her hands away. "This water isn't clean anymore... Where's Dad? How far away is he? Dad?" She arched her neck anxiously, peering through the open tent flap for her father.

"I'm right here." Hakoda said breathlessly, setting down the heavy cask of water with a groan. "How... Is he going? Will he make it?"

"I don't know." Katara drew forth some fresh water, hands illuminated with a soft silver. Aang's shirt lay discarded beside her, a bloodsoaked lump of cloth. "He's lost so much blood... And his lung is just... I don't know what I can do. I don't know how I can repair it..." She wiped at her eyes with a forearm. "I-I don't know what to..." She crumbled, Hakoda taking the girl in his arms before she slumped forward over Aang's still frame. "To do..."

"There's nothing we can." Sokka's face was grey. "Just... Keep him comfortable and..." he covered his face with his hands, bowing his head. "W-Wait for..." He didn't resist the strong arm winding across his shoulders, instead leaning into his fathers' embrace, pressing himself into Hakoda's side while Katara gradually soaked the front of her father's tunic, sobs muffled.

"Um..." Toph spoke up a few minutes later, after she had groped around for another blanket, spreading it across the barely-alive boy and settled beside his head, one hand self-consciously stroking his cheek. The ground beneath her had hardened into a slab of rock, so she could feel the emotions of the others, disentangling truth from lies, and to keep a close eye on Aang's heartbeat. "I don't mean to make things worse... But where's Momo?"

Silence fell through the tent, sobs dying at once as a blanket of shock smothered the siblings. Katara jerked against her father, straightening herself and fixating a blurred gaze on Toph, mouth open.

"He was with me last... After I was c-caught by Ty Lee, h-he just flew away. I-I don't know..." Katara covered her mouth with a hand. "He's somewhere in Ba Sing Se..."

"Oh no." Sokka moaned, shaking his head. "Not... Not Momo..."

"We don't know if he's actually gone, Sokka." Toph was grateful for the hair covering her face, hiding the tears that she knew were splattered all over her cheeks. "Some nice family m-might have taken him in. He's probably some kids pet."

"Momo hates little kids." Sokka breathed, feeling his father's grip tighten sympathetically. "I... Spirits, how can we think about _Momo_ now?"

"'Cause we love Momo too." Toph reasoned, placing her hand on Aang's forehead, feeling his temperature, his heartbeat. "Katara... His heart is slowing... You have to do something. Please."

"I-I'll try." She disentangled herself from Hakoda, taking a deep breath and leaned over the still figure, peering in the eerie yellow light. "It's his lung that's the problem. I _might_ be able to heal it, with time, but I would have to keep his chest open while I do. If he wakes up before then..." There was a collective shudder around the room. "I couldn't do that to him..."

"Just do what you can." Sokka's hand found her shoulder, squeezing gently. "I know you can do it, Katara." Her eyes had drifted closed, hands pressed against her chest. She traced the lines of his chi paths through her mind, feeling the soft rise and fall of his chest, the gentle ebbing tide of his energy push and pull. Scratch that – _trying_ to push and pull, but when it all got to the chest, it was shot to hell. Nothing was flowing right. It was definitely bad. She pressed her lips together, and set her jaw as hard as iron, refusing to give way to tears again.

"This isn't absolutely terrible." Katara breathed, trying to lift her voice. "He's through the worst now. His chi paths look pretty good." She forced a smile on her face, staring at the others though the gloom. Sokka straightened his back, lifting his head. He nodded at his sister, returning the tiny smile. Toph shook her head, wiping at her blind eyes with a forearm.

"I know you're lying, Katara." Toph's voice shook. Sokka's head snapped back to his sister, features sinking in dismay. "I turned the ground beneath us t-to rock when we c-came in so I could see."

"Oh." Katara's voice was very small. She lowered her gaze to her knees, Sokka's eyes boring into her. "I-I..." She let out a long breath. "I don't know if he'll see the dawn guys..."

"No." Sokka shook his head. "No. There's gotta be something! Something you can do or-"

"Sokka, I've done all I can!" Katara protested, balling her hands into fists. "I-I'm not a miracle worker, I don't have any more magic water, I don't have the power of a spirit, I don't have anything!" Sokka clambered out of the tent without another word, the other three sitting in silence.

"Go Dad." Katara murmured shortly, feeling her father's breath quicken. He nodded silently, pushing past his daughter and into the moonlit beach. Sokka hadn't walked far, only about twenty feet, before sinking into a huddle on the sand, head between his knees.

"Sokka." Hakoda called out quietly, thinking of the men sleeping – or perhaps trying to – in the long row of tents along the shore. "Sokka are you..."

"It's my fault." Sokka moaned, Hakoda approaching him quietly. "Aang is going to _die._ He's going to die and it is all my _fault..."_

"You weren't the one that shot him, son." Hakoda murmured consolingly, standing a foot or so behind him. "Nothing you did or could have done would change anything."

"That's not true." He rubbed frantically at his eyes. "Dad... Aang..." Sokka gulped. "He was going to kill her. He'd fixed her to the floor and was about to..." He rubbed at his wrist, which still pained him significantly. He'd forced it out of his mind, retied his wrist guards to stem the bleeding, and left it at that, and now the action was over and the shock subsiding, it returned, throbbing painfully. "And I stopped him... And he was distracted by that and she... If I hadn't done that, she would be dead... We would have won and Aang would be-"

"_What?"_ Sokka and Hakoda froze, two pairs of blue eyes sliding to the figure standing a little way off, who had left the tent in curiosity. "_What did you do?"_

"Katara." Sokka felt dizzy. "I-I... I had to! Aang-"

"He is _dying!"_ Katara had promised herself that she wouldn't again succumb to weeping, that she was strong enough to cope without collapsing, but her chest heaved with sobs. "I-Is _this_ better? Aang won't see the dawn!"

"Katara, _please_." He begged, getting up on his knees, face turned to his sister. "I-I had no choice! Aang is a _monk_, he-"

"It was not your place to step in, Sokka!" Katara shouted, voice streaming along the beach. "It was not your fight!"

"I was _not_ going to let Aang kill her!" Sokka stood up, wavering slightly on lax knees. He locked his gaze with the girl, lower lip trembling violently. "It's not that she didn't deserve it Katara," He spoke fast, loudly, refusing to let her interject. "Aang would _never_ forgive himself for taking a life! You should have seen him. Y-You should have seen how horrified he was for coming so close! He wouldn't have been able to take it!"

"He would have been okay!" Katara dug the heels of her hands into her eyes, sniffing. Hakoda had rushed to her side, trying to take her into his arms and console her, but she pushed her father away, to intent on arguing with Sokka. "He would be _alive,_ he would be unharmed, and the Earth Kingdom would be _safe!"_

"Well then, I am _sorry!"_ In the tent, Toph had buried her head between her knees, humming loudly in order to drown out the fight. "I am _sorry_ that I tried to save Aang from himself! I'm sorry I did what he _told_ me to, and I am _so_ very sorry that I respected and followed his beliefs!"

"If you couldn't stomach seeing Azula die, then-"

"_What?" _His lips were pursed in a scowl. "Did you think I didn't want to see her crushed?" Hakoda was very, very still, watching in shock as a new blanket of quiet, smouldering rage smothered his son. "She captured Suki Katara. _Suki._" Katara's eyes slowly widened. "Suki, who left her home, who joined the War, because of _me. _Wh-who could be dead, tortured, imprisoned... I-I don't know! All I could _think_ about when I was in there was her! I wanted to see Azula suffer Katara, for all the lives she's ruined, the people she's torn apart..." Sokka closed his eyes, trying so hard to hold his composure. "No one wants to see her face the consequences more than I do, Katara. For Suki and for Aang. Don't you _dare_ say that I did this for Azula!"

"W-Well, wh-"

"Katara, shut _up!"_ Sokka grabbed her arms, losing control. "Why do you _always_ have to say something! Why are you putting this on me! Why can't you just accept I'm _right!"_

"Aang is _dying_!" She attempted to wrench herself free, but her brother's grasp on her sleeves was unyielding. "That is not _right _Sokka! How can you, you of all people, say that this is _right?"_ Katara managed to pull herself free, the sound of tearing cloth an awful screech in the nightly chill. "I can't even-" She turned away, and ran. Clouds of dirt rose from her heels, her desperate footfalls little more than soft thuds. Sokka's head sank into his hands, the teenage boy erupting in a growling moan of grievous exasperation.

"Sokka." Hakoda's hands, heavy as stone, rested on his sons' shoulders. His fingers curled into the tendons, his chin resting on the untidy wolfs' tail. "You..." The man pulled away from the brief embrace, unable to form the words in his mouth. They stuck like glue, a foul clump in the back of his throat.

"Go." Sokka muttered bitterly. "Go and... Comfort her or something." He closed his eyes, Hakoda's stilted breath as he jogged along the sandy bay to the cluster of rocks at the bottom of the cliffs louder than his tread. He stood for a long time, drinking in the peaceful silence of the beach. It was almost five minutes before Hakoda had managed to catch up with the girl, their voices little more than vague murmurs on the edge of his hearing, indistinct.

"I was right." Sokka muttered, kicking at a rock. "They weren't there, they didn't _know-"_

"If they don't know, then how do you expect them to understand?" Toph's deadpan voice caused Sokka to jump, craning his neck to stare at her. "What?"

"Whose side are you on." It sounded bitterer than Sokka intended, and he drew back with a wince, turning around fully to regard the girl who had emerged from the tent as the argument died down.

"Duh. The side that sees sense." Toph felt Sokka sit down with a long sigh, stretching his legs forward in the sand, leaning back on his hands. "I was there Sokka. You have no idea how crazy he went. How guilty he was when he realised that he was inches from murder. You don't need to justify yourself to me."

"But Dad and Katara-"

"Don't get it." Toph's voice was quivering. "Sokka, don't grudge them for this."

"Why not?" He turned to look up at her. "She's screaming at me as though I personally shot Aang with lightning, and Dad... He is _agreeing_ with her! Do you know how that hurts? Do you have any idea? To have your own father... Turn against you?"

"Yes." She sat beside him quietly, one hand on his arm. "Sokka, if you two aren't speaking, then what's left of us?" Toph leaned against his shoulder, toes flexing and relaxing in the sand.

"I don't know." Sokka couldn't breathe. "If Aang is... If he can't..." He sniffed, trying to stem his runny nose. "Then we'll have to go to the North Pole and find... Wait... Until we know who..." He felt the girl nod against her shoulder, heard the gentle shifting of the sand as she wove her fingers through the grains. "We can... We can take you home, Toph." His heart was a stone. "Back to your family. You left for Aang. A-And if he's not here, then you don't have to stay."

"Don't be an idiot." Sokka cringed as she punched him in the arm. Hard. "You think I would leave you all vulnerable?" Her face lit up, as bright as a tomato, although visibility was difficult in the moonlight. She turned away, hoping that he wouldn't see, hoping he hadn't noticed the catch in his voice. "My place isn't at home anymore."

"I know." Sokka murmured, heavily. "Being here... With Dad and all the other men... It's been everything that I've ever hoped for... And yet... There's something missing. Maybe it's because I've been waiting to act as a man amongst them, I've built them up so high and made them out as demigods... But it's just not..." Sokka sighed, unable to articulate his emotions. "How I thought..."

"Welcome to the real world." Toph's head had regained its position on his shoulder. "Isn't it terrible." Her eyelids lowered, the girl slowly succumbing to pure exhaustion. "E-E-Everyone's right but you." The statement was punctuated by a jaw-cracking yawn. "Ugh."

"Go to bed, Toph." Sokka sighed, giving her forearm a short, comforting rub. "Tomorrow's going to be a big day... whatever happens..."

"What about you?" Toph challenged, one eyebrow cocked, withdrawing slightly from the teenager. "You're hardly perky."

"In a minute." Sokka drew his knees up to his chest, arms encircling his shins. "I won't be long. Besides, someone should be in there with Aang..."

"Oh, all right." Grudgingly, Toph rose to her feet, brushing the sand from the back of her clothes. "Just don't stay up all night mooning over Aang and Katara. Please."

"I won't." His voice was a creak in his throat as Toph walked off, Sokka raising his gaze to stare at the moon, hanging low against the ocean. "Why Yue..." He leaned his chin on his knees, lower lip drooping. "Why would the Spirits want this to happen? How can this fit into their divine plan? How can Aang dying be good for the world? What would you want with Mum and Suki? _I don't_ _understand."_ He blinked rapidly as the moon began to blur. "Are they even watching over us? Or have we been left to our own devices all this time... Ugh, the _stupid_ Spirits!" He muttered the curse to himself, teeth gritted. "They can't even _defend _themselves, look at Tui and La... If it wasn't for Aang we wouldn't even have a moon anymore... What on earth do they want with _him?_" If there were any more rocks around, he would have thrown them. Instead, Sokka stewed silently in his own murky puddle of doubt and agitation. He'd always been so practical, ignoring spiritual magic at every possible opportunity as it fell outside his comprehension. It was only over the past few months that he dared to believe that maybe the spirits were capable of being physical beings with some influence over the world, opening his mind to a concept that previously had seemed impossible to him.

_If this is meant to be some kind of setup by the spirits, then they are the sickest, most twisted beings out there. _Sokka returned his gaze to the moon. _Forget them. Forget the faith and the trust and the rest of it. It's __**crap.**__ It's all lies and I'm not going to pretend that I believe it anymore._ He lay on his back, stretched out amongst the sand. Curled his fingers. Felt the little grains infiltrate his boots.

Not having something to believe in was so much easier. Sokka mused on this silently, trying to calm himself, allowing his senses to be overwhelmed with the steady pulse of the ocean.

_I can't afford to be like this. Aang can't afford to have me like this. And Katara, she needs me. Well, she will when she gets over herself and realises the truth. I don't know what she's going to think, if she'll say it's completely my fault or somehow divinely ordained... I wish I had advice from someone about this. Some kind of elder I could talk to._ He would have even settled for General Iroh at this point. Somebody to reassure him, explain things and given spiritual guidance. _It should be Dad... Who does this for me. He should be the one that I look up to in times like this... And he doesn't know. He can't help me. And it is so damn frustrating._ He stood up, joints creaking, and made his way across the sand, back to the small tent. Sokka wanted to bury his face in the pelts, inhaling the smell of treated hide and fur, immersing himself in the childhood memories he inevitably associated with such odours. _I'm not sure if I'm really ready for all of this._ It was perhaps slightly proud of Sokka to say so, but he did think of himself as the leader of their little group of outcasts. If he had an idea or opinion about something, a possible travel route, when to stop, what to do next, the others usually stopped to listen to him. Sokka was the one who encouraged the others, offering words of advice or support. He was the eldest, the one who strived the hardest to protect the others at every possible opportunity. He was the most practical, the most forward-thinking of the group, the tactician and strategist. _And yet I'm the one that's taking this the hardest._ Sokka pushed his way inside the tent, finding Toph lying on her back beside Aang, her blind eyes wide open. _She's taking this so well, I don't know why but Toph is maintaining such a cool exterior. She's trying so hard to keep us together... for all the good that it's doing. _Katara had crumbled, of course, but her grief was understandable, primal. One of her closest friends was on the verge of death, and she was unable to intervene. Her beliefs wouldn't have been rattled to the core. She wouldn't have suffered the same existentialist crisis that Sokka was experiencing. He felt as though his soul had been turned inside out.

"It's steadied." Toph whispered in the gloom, obviously referring to Aang's heartbeat. "I don't wanna give you a false hope, but if he can hold on..."

"All we can do is hope and pray." Sokka stretched out along the thick fur, turning his face into the pelt so he could inhale deeply. "If anyone is actually listening." His voice was muffled, indistinct. Toph wasn't sure of what he had said.

"Katara would have calmed down by the morning." She reached out, found Sokka's shoulder, and gave a tight squeeze. "We'll um... We'll, have more information by then. We'll know what to do."

"Thanks Toph." Sokka turned his face in her direction, so he could speak to her clearly. Her arm withdrew. "You're a champion."

"No problem." Her face reddened in the dark, despite herself.

* * *

It was the creaking that caused Jin to start.

She had woken from a fitful sleep some time before, and was unable to resume her slumber, mind too plagued with various fleeting thoughts and hypotheticals. She turned on her side, in a foetal position with her knees drawn to her chest. Jin would have called them nightmares, but she knew she was wide awake, and knew that the images of burning buildings that flashed across her mind were her first layer of thought in the minds' eye, and not the tangled, confusing web of the subconscious. There were no symbols – what she feared most of all was that her home would burn.

She sat up in bed as she heard the sound, realising instantly who had just made his way into the main room, unaware of which particular saggy floorboards groaned under the weird and how to move the door so it didn't squeak. Jin threw back the covers, finding the soft green puddles of clothing on the floor, pulling them on as she walked, lightly yet quickly so she wouldn't awaken the others in the house or alarm them further.

Her heart tightened as she passed through the doorway, seeing Zuko sitting up in her mothers' rocking chair by the fire. She was as silent as a cat, a vague outline in the thick darkness, and he had no heed of her until her hand rested lightly on his shoulder. Zuko jumped, gasping loudly and jerking like a stiff puppet under Jin's hand.

"It's okay." She breathed, close to his ear, feeling him relax. "I heard you come out here." Jin slid on to Zuko's lap, feeling him tremble at the contact. "What's wrong?"

"I..." Zuko's voice was a hoarse rasp, as dry as sandpaper. With a wince, he swallowed, and tried again. "I had a nightmare." There were no reservations. He wasn't going to dry and deny what he had experienced, not when she indirectly played such a central role. "It was... Bad."

"Tell me." Her breath was warm on his neck, sending a barrel of shivers coursing up his spine. "Please."

"I... I dreamed that I was the Fire Lord." His hand groped around in the darkness until he found hers, clinging to her almost helplessly. "And... I was in the Palace, just walking, a-and... There was a bad fire." Zuko pressed his forehead against her temple, seeking both physical and emotional warmth. "And I was running around, trying to find you."

"Me?" Jin was confused. _Why would I be in the Fire Nation Palace at all, unless I was some kind of prisoner?_ Zuko nodded against her, and with a short little intake of breath, continued his story.

"And... I finally found you... You were in the middle of the throne room, surrounded by fire. And I couldn't move. I don't know why but my feet were just rooted to the floor. I tried to bend the flames away but they didn't react at all... I couldn't do anything and then your clothes caught fire and..." Zuko trailed off, stewing in deep silence for a few long moments. "You walked through the flames, towards me, all lit up, and I tried to run away." He swallowed, feeling more than slightly ill. Jin squeezed his hand, comfortingly. "But then you grabbed my sleeve and set it on fire... I couldn't move an inch and I was watching myself burn... It took so long to wake up." His voice cracked on the last syllable, and Zuko lapsed into silence, his chin trembling.

"Oh honey, it was just a dream." The pet name slid easily off her tongue, slightly uneasy to Zuko's ears. "Dreams don't mean anything. You had a really long and stressful day, remember?"

"... Yeah." Zuko agreed lamely, staring into the thick darkness. It seemed a confirmation of his fears, all rolled into one nightmarish scenario, the fire he couldn't control, his title of Fire Lord, Jin's death, all three played heavily on his mind. "I guess."

"You should go back to sleep." Jin kissed Zuko's nose.

"I'm not tired." Zuko lied, glad that the girl couldn't see his drooping eyes in the dark. "I can't face going back to bed... lying there with only my thoughts to keep me company..."

"Then come into my room." Jin stood up slowly, taking Zuko's hands. She was infinitely grateful that he was so naive, unable to understand the possible connotations. "My bed isn't that narrow. You won't be alone in there."

"... All right." Zuko agreed, far more tired than he let on. Grateful, he followed Jin, who stepped easily through the dark, the teen doing his best to follow her catlike steps. "You don't have to look after me like this you know."

"Oh, I know." The only sound her door made was a gentle _click_ as she pushed it closed. "It's not looking after, Zuko." He had fumbled his way to her bed, and sat on the edge, lighting the candle at her bedside by pinching the wick. He gave an odd jerk at the use of his real name, the eerie shadows of the candle hollowing his cheeks. With the scar and the angular interplay of light and darkness, Zuko looked nearly threatening.

"Don't call me that." He murmured softly, watching the wax soften in the hollow of the candle.

"Oh, yeah." Jin winced, forgetting. "Someone else might be up and hear us."

"No," Zuko shook his head, watching as Jin sat on the edge of the bed beside her.  
"I mean... just don't call me by that name at all. Please."

"Why?" She seized his hand, and turned to face him, sounding stricken. "It's still your _name,_ you can't forget your real identity completely."

"There is nothing wrong with a life of peace and prosperity..." Zuko mumbled in a glaze, eyes following the tiny, flickering flame. "It's what... What Uncle said. He's right."

"What do you mean?"

"I've been thinking." He turned from the candle, to look at her. "Jin... I can't help them. Every time I try, it's thrown back in my face. And it hurts. It hurts a lot more than you could ever imagine. Even when I've done everything I can to clear my name, they still won't accept me. I risk my life for them and I don't even get a thank you. Nothing I ever do will make them think that I'm anything other than a foul bastard and I can't keep pretending otherwise. What else am I meant to do? Go out and find other allies? I have no one, Jin. _No one_ who would give a damn whether I lived or died, apart from Uncle and you."

"No." Jin argued, feeling a lump rise in her throat. "You are a _Prince_, if you choose to fight, there will be people to back you up!"

"Who?" Zuko demanded in a low whisper. "The Earth Kingdom? I saved a town, I physically defeated the soldiers who terrorised them, in front of the citizens, but the moment they found out who I was, I was completely shunned. They have no reason to fight for me. And why would they? Look at my history with them, I have so many examples of brutality and violence, but only one case where I helped them."

"But-"

"The Fire Nation? No chance. My Uncle had people that he could call on, but not me. I'm a nobody there. Just an outcast child who never had any real chance of inheriting the throne. Even if there were some out there that wanted a revolution, they wouldn't dare. The punishment if they were caught is too great. Nothing is worth that risk."

"You can't think like this." Jin pleaded. "The world _needs_ you!"

"Well, maybe 'the world' should have thought about that before treating me the way it did. I'm tired, Jin. I'm tired of running all around the world, chasing down dreams that just end up exploding in my face." He slumped against her, breathing ragged. "I-I want my Uncle."

"Oh, of course you do." She buried her nose in the jet-black hair, at a loss of what to say. Zuko had really been turned inside out after the past events of the day, and left as what Jin could only describe as a fragmented husk. How could he have endured that time and again, day after day, picking himself up again, brushing himself off and pursuing the same futile task with vigour? _But he can't... Not anymore._

And it made Jin feel ill. It was so much easier to deny the War, even just twenty-four hours ago, when it seemed as though it was in another country, another world, so isolated was the walled city._ How stupid could I be, to think that? People have been dying by the thousands and now that Ba Sing Se is gone, it's only going to get worse. There is no safe haven left, nothing, and we only have a few months until the comet comes, and the Fire Nation destroy everything..._

"You can't do this." Jin begged again, feeling her eyes sting. "Please, Zuko." He tensed. "I'm going to call you Zuko, because that is your _name._" She argued firmly. "Y-You can't sit here and forsake everything because you've been let down... N-Not when we're so close to complete destruction."

"Don't cry." Zuko swallowed. "Please, b-because you'll probably set me off and I can't..." He blinked, trying very, very heard to push the ember back down.

"I know you've faced the raw end for so long." Jin sniffed. "I know things are hard, but if you give up now, then that only means that Ozai won, in the end. Zuko, with the Avatar gone, you are the only person left who can stand up to him. You're the only one with a hope."

"Why?" Zuko muttered bitterly, withdrawing from Jin. "You don't know that, Jin. I'm not the greatest fire bender in the world, I'm not the most skilled fighter and I'm certainly not the strongest. Why the hell does the world have to sit on my shoulders?"

"You're wrong." Jin breathed softly. "You _are _the strongest. I don't know anyone capable of going through what you have, picking yourself back up, and starting again. You're the bravest. And what you have against Ozai is more personal than anyone." Her fingers touched his scar. "You have the most to lose."

"Stop trying to change my mind." Zuko jerked his head, to look at her. Jin drew back a little, startled. "You don't _know_ Jin. You can't possibly ever know what it's like to face that. They _left_ us. They left us in the _middle of Lake Laogai_, knowing that Ba Sing Se is crawling with Azula's spies. They left us in more danger than ever, they left us with you barely alive, they left us without a thing. Now you sit there and tell me how I can be allies with people who are willing to do that to me."

"Hypocrite." Jin bristled, earning a frozen stare from Zuko. "Come on. You followed them around the world, trying to capture them, attacking them constantly. Did you _ever_ think they would really trust you?"

"I thought I'd done enough to show that I could be trusted." Zuko argued in a low mutter. "I thought risking my life for them was enough."

"And it was." Jin's arms encircled Zuko's shoulders. "Until you attacked Katara. Do you think they were really shocked or outraged about that, or did they just use it as a reason to cast you – us – away?"

"So there never was a hope." Zuko's eyes were downcast. "I never should have tried."

"No!" Jin's long fingers found his chin, and the girl directed Zuko to look her in the eyes. "You can _never_ stop trying. I know it's not the same, but I've been dragged through the mud too, Zuko." Her eyes lowered for a moment, dwelling on a horrific internal pain. "I honestly had a period of weeks when I just wanted to crawl into bed and die. But I didn't. And neither will you. You can't give up and forsake everyone." It was an impulse, really, that drove her to kiss him. He was taken by surprise at the motion, and sat very still as she drew away slowly, cheeks reddening. "And you won't be alone this time. You don't need the Avatars' friends. They're good fighters, but you'll find others. And I'll do everything that I can to help you."

"... We should get some sleep." Zuko murmured after a long period of silence. "I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted." He pulled back the covers of the bed, looking thoughtful. "Do you mind if I take the wall side?" Wordlessly, Jin nodded, her shoulders slumped, heart in her stomach. Zuko crawled into the bed with the clothes he had on, the knee-length undershorts and short sleeveless tunic. Jin pulled off her clothes, leaving the underdress, face turned away so he couldn't see the bitter, angry tears rolling down her cheeks. Defeated, extinguished, she climbed into the bed beside him, turning away and facing the room. She wiped her cheeks on the thin pillow, and clamped her teeth down hard on a corner of the sheet, utterly destroyed. "Um... Night."

"Night." Her voice was a trembling mess, and she winced at the harsh syllable, before biting back down on the corner of her sheet. Zuko killed the small candleflame with a wave of his hand, plunging the room into darkness. He rolled over, and faced the wall. He was past emotion, past feeling hurt, betrayed, ruined, and angry. Zuko was too tired and numb to register any further thought. Images, words, floated through his mind, but he paid them no heed. His lips still tingled from the kiss.

Jin lay wide-eyed, with her teeth grinding on the corner of the cotton sheet. _I won't see you go down Zuko. I'm not going to let you give up hope. I'm going to make sure that you defeat your evil bastard of a father, take your rightful place on the throne, and rid the world of this War. I remember one of my cousins said once, that as long as the Avatar was alive, there was always hope. Well, he's dead now, or good as, but that doesn't mean our hope is dead. Not when we have you._

Jin's lip made shapeless words, silently in the dark. _Help us, Zuko. _

_

* * *

_

Oh, such mediocre quasi-spirituality.

Next update will be MUCH sooner. I had a lot of difficulty with this one. It's one of those important moments that really defines where the story is going to go, tone, etc. so there was a lot of pressure for it to be kick-ass awesome. I hope you guys think it came out okay.

Also, no one noticed that Momo was gone. Shame on you all.


	21. Chapter 21

Oh boy is my face red.

Four months. No excuses, I know. I won't try to give any.

Disclaimer: I own nothing here, but you knew that.

* * *

"Jin." Shan left the door ajar as she slipped into the room. "Jin, it's time to..." Her breath died in her throat at the sight of the male draped along the edge of the bed. The blankets had slid down past his hips, one arm wrapped around Jin's neck. His nose was buried in her hair. Something knotted, deep in her stomach, pressure building in her chest. But had she _really_ expected anything else from _her?_ Shan cleared her throat loudly, watching as Zuko rose first, started. Jin was a little slower to rise, pressing her face in the pillow with a groan.

"Good morning." Shan set the candle down on the bedside table coolly. Zuko drew himself against the wall, shaking. "Sleep well?" Jin finally rolled from the pillow on to her back. It took the body of warmth beside her to realise what was happening, that they had, for all intents and purposes, been 'caught', and immediately sprang from the bed.

"Ma." She held her hands out before her. "Look, I still have my clothes on, so does Lee. I know this looks bad, but we didn't do anything, I _swear_, we-"

"Just shared a bed? _You?"_ The woman was livid. "I thought we were _over_ this Jin! I thought that after everything you would know better."

"She's being serious." Zuko spoke up, trying to keep his voice steady. "I didn't... I would _never_ compromise Jin like that, I swear... We've never gotten close to anything like..." Flustered, he fell silent, wishing that he was wearing more of a shirt.

"Ma, I-"

"Come and eat." She turned away, without another word. The door was shut quietly.

"Damn." Jin breathed, sitting down on the edge of the bed, head in her hands. "She still doesn't trust me... Not that I've ever given her proof, I mean I always used to promise that I was straight and what was I doing behind her back? Why would she even pretend to believe my crap anymore?" Zuko climbed across the bed, taking a careful seat at her side. He made sure their bare arms weren't touching.

"I can talk to her."

"No, no, that's no good." Jin sighed. "She won't believe you. _I _know you're fantastic and innocent and haven't tried anything, but _she_ doesn't. And she thinks that she knows how the minds of boys in this city work. As though chasing girls' skirts are all they're interested in, all day every day."

"Well, I'm not _technically_ from here, so maybe she's right."

"Of course she's right." Jin stood up, padding across to her little clothing rack. "She's always right, whenever we disagree, she comes out top. She's my _mother._ You know how it is."

"Well, no." Zuko contradicted her quietly, hands clasped in his lap. He kept his eyes down. "Not really... Mum and I never argued..."

"Of course you didn't." Jin sighed, pulling on the patched dress. "Your childhood was perfect for a whole nine years." She gave him a tiny smile, but it quickly dissolved, the corners of her lips drooping. "You had innocence." Jin sounded wistful.

"What do you mean?" Zuko frowned, watching as she fumbled with the thin sash around her waist. "It wasn't exactly perfect, even before..."

"You know Chang can't go anywhere by himself?" Jin spoke up, stepping into her shoes, wincing as the busted hem split further. "There has be an older kid with them at all times. He spends at least half of his days cooped up inside, it's not safe."

"You think the Royal Family would be safer?" Zuko arched an eyebrow. "There was an assassin plot, once. A group of radicals conspired to blow us up during the Summer Solstice festival. My grandfather had a hard time deciding on what to do with them. My father said they and their families should have faced public torture and execution, as a warning to the citizens. Un... U-Uncle Iroh said that it should be hushed up and they should be taken care of quietly, lest they be made martyrs of. Azulon went with the quiet approach."

"They _told_ you about that?" Jin blinked. "How old _were _you?"

"I was eight." Zuko explained, sitting his fingers burrowing under his legs. "And I didn't hear anything, Azula did. She was really short for her age for a long time. When she was eight, she looked five. No one simply saw her. So, she had a way of sneaking around and getting into places and hearing things she shouldn't." His stomach contracted, painfully. _Dad's going to kill you... Really, he is..._

"Ugh. Your mother must have gone nuts." Jin sat down on the edge of the bed again. "If my Ma knew anyone even though about laying a finger on her kids, she'd go after them. She... Depends on us, I think. Way too much. It's actually kind of stressful, know what I mean?"

"I think so." Zuko nodded. "Yes. I know what you mean." His fingers curled into the worn coverlet, knuckles digging into the underside of his thighs. "U-Uncle Iroh... He was like that. If you saw him Jin... W-when I lied to him and said he was a traitor... He died inside, and you have no idea..."

"Zuko." Jin pressed her lips against his ear. "Stop." She breathed lightly. One hand dug around and found his, fingers interlocking. "Please."

"I-I can't-"

"Yes, you can." Jin sighed, pressed his forehead against his temple. A stubborn little pulse throbbed against her skull. "They won't kill him. Like you said, he has friends. Won't those friends do their best to try and break him out?"

"... Maybe." Zuko relented with a mumble. It was the best Jin was going to get, so she took it.

"Look, I have to get going to work." She rose, reluctantly. "I'll be back in the middle of the day. _Please_ Zuko, promise me that you won't do anything stupid." She still had his hand, and tightened her grasp pleadingly.

"All right." He sighed as she released his hand, stepping back in triumph. He flopped against the pillow, hands over his face. "But I can't just sit here..."

"What happened to peace and prosperity?" Jin wondered how much of last night he remembered. "Just take a damn day. Relax. Go doze in the sun. Read something. Meditate. When was the last time you let yourself unwind?"

"I don't let my guard down." Zuko muttered, his voice muffled. "At least, I try."

"I noticed." Jin said mournfully, in a voice so low she wasn't sure he heard. She lingered in the doorway for a few more moments, but it looked as though he'd shut down. Maybe he was falling asleep. Jin swallowed deeply, and turned away, sure to close the door behind her. It was frustrating, aggravating, insulting. He still wasn't letting her in, not completely. She thought the barriers had crumbled after the day before, but it seemed that Zuko thought it best to throw them back up. Maybe it was pride. Maybe he didn't trust her. Now? After he'd shown so much of himself? He'd emptied his soul for her. He wasn't going to shut her out now. Not intentionally, at least.

_Hypocrite_. Jin grit her teeth. As though she didn't have things she kept.

* * *

It was dawn.

Katara moved slightly as the first beams of light pushed stubbornly at her eyelids, a dull, ember-red. She groaned, burying her face further into the comfort of her fathers' tunic in an attempt to escape from the light. Hakoda's lip twitched in a small smile at the movement, and he looped an arm around her shoulders, drawing the girl close. How long had it been, since his daughter had drifted off to sleep in his arms? It was soon after the death of his wife. That much he remembered. His stomach contracted at the thought, and he focused instead on Katara, who had given up on the idea of sleeping in the sand, and pulled herself away, rubbing at her eyes.

"... Sorry Dad." She breathed, sitting up by herself and bringing her knees to her chest. She referred to the outburst of the night before with downcast eyes, not wanting to look her father straight on. "I was just so... I..."

"There is nothing you have to apologize about." He said softly, squeezing her shoulder. "You wanted only to protect Aang."

"He's right though." Katara sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of his hand. "I-I know that, of course. I'm so _stupid! _Aang is always so terrified of hurting people, I-I mean he doesn't even eat meat, or swat at spiderflies." She froze, eyes widening. "Aang!"

"Katara, wait!" Hakoda started, jumping up as Katara started to sprint along the beach. He groaned, shaking his head. "Katara please, just wait a moment!" He tried to keep his voice low, aware that his men were probably trying to get some sleep. "Listen, I don't think-"

"How is he?" Katara burst into the tent breathlessly, finding Aang laid out on the furs, his head in Tophs lap, angled upwards just slightly. Sokka had parted his lips with one hand, trying to manipulate the lax jaw enough to accept the rum of the wooden cup.

"Hey." Sokka gave a wan smile in the half-light. "He's still breathing. We thought it would be a good idea to try and give him some water, but he's not taking it." He gestured at the water slopped across Aang's face and neck. "Uh, can you?"

"Of course." Katara sank to her knees beside her brother, who held Aang's mouth slightly open, enough for her to bend the silvery ribbon of water past his lips and down his throat. "And Sokka..." She looked up at her brother. "Listen. I'm really-"

"It's okay." He held up one hand, not needing to hear the apology. "We're all ragged and worn out and stressed. I could have been less of a jerk about it, too."

"But you were right." Katara sighed. "Imagine if he had done it. If he had... killed her. He won't even learn firebending after what he accidentally did to me. If he ended Azula's life, then he wouldn't fight again, ever. And then we would have Ozai to contend with."

"Ah, we could take him, Katara." Toph chuckled in the dark. "You nullify his firebending and I'll sneak up from behind and bam!" She punched her fist. "Pin him down, knock him out, and you can deliver one of those killer icicles, right in the chest."

"Toph, don't!" Katara complained with a shudder. "Don't even joke about it. It's _not_ funny."

"Look, I'm just trying to raise a point." Toph muttered, defensively. "We can rule Aang out of the picture for the invasion plan, at least. He'll be bedridden for months. What if he's not mobile before the comet?"

"I don't think the comet matters anymore." Sokka stared at the other pale faces in the tent. "Firelord Ozai was going to use it to win the war, right? Well... He has Ba Sing Se now. What is there left to conquer? Maybe it's best if we lie low – _real _low – for four or five years, so Aang isn't just healthier, but older. And stronger."

"How can you say that, Sokka?" Katara argued. "People are dying every day! Both Ozai and his psychotic daughter need to be taken out as soon as possible."

"Okay." Toph tried to regain her original point. "Look, it's way too early to think about anything like that. Katara, if Aang won't be well enough, and you won't do it, then who will? Who else has even a chance of facing them and coming out on top?"

"Pakku?" Sokka suggested. "Maybe Bumi? Uh... Let me think..."

"What about General Iroh?" Toph pushed carefully, knowing she was treading very dangerous ground. "We all know he's a damn good bender. And he's on our side."

"I... Yeah." Katara conceded grudgingly. "You know... he never actually did anything to hurt us. I hardly ever remember seeing him back when Zuko was chasing us. And remember at the North Pole? He knows more about the Spirit World than any of us. He knew about Yue."

"Iroh's not so bad." Sokka pulled one of the woven blankets carefully over Aang, tucking it under his sides. "It's his bloody nephew we have to watch out for. And I know what you're going to say," Sokka looked at Toph sternly as she opened her mouth. "No way. Not ever."

"But-"

"Okay Toph." Katara started, pushing her hair back. It needed rearranging, the braid was coming loose and stray hairs flopped all about her face. "Picture this. He joins us. It's the final battle. We're in the palace, it's worn down to one of us and Zuko against Ozai. He knows that he's not going to make it. So he pleads to his son, he says that if Zuko betrays us right there, then his status and honour will be restored, all past digressions will be forgotten. What would Zuko say to that?"

"He would tell him to shove it." Toph muttered stubbornly. "Come on guys, haven't you even thought things through? I mean the future. Who is going to be the next Firelord? You can't just leave that position vacant."

"I didn't..." Sokka trailed off.

"Didn't think about that." Toph shook her head. "I figured." She sighed, blowing at the thick curtain of hair in her face. "What do you think, Hakoda?"

"What?" Hakoda, who had been waiting and listening outside, poked his head in, startled. "What do you mean?"

"You know more about leadership and responsibility than us kids." Toph reasoned. "Who should be the next Firelord when we win? Should it be Zuko, Iroh, or someone new? How do you guys pick a chief down in the south?"

"Well, the current chief, when he knows and feels that he is too old to continue his responsibilities, declares the next chief at a ceremony. It's sometimes his son, but not always. It's certainly not unheard of for a chief's son to be passed over if he's unworthy. It's not based on blood, but on skill and merit." Hakoda explained, taking a seat opposite his children. "But times for us are hard. Desperate. Say I give up my chiefdom at fifty, which would make Sokka twenty-eight. He would be the only man in the southern tribe at an age I would consider appropriate for the responsibilities. The men would be past their prime, and our other sons would be too young."

"Huh. Great." Sokka muttered somewhat gloomily. "So I'm pretty much the only option then."

"Sokka," Hakoda said gently. "If there were fifty other men in our tribe the same age, you would still be my first pick. Not because you are my son, but because you have proven yourself." He reached across Aang's still form, found Sokka's elbow, and squeezed.

"That's great." Toph tried to bring the conversation back around, Sokka in a relative state of euphoria. "But can the Fire Nation do that? You've seen the propaganda, right? How the Royal family claims to be descended from Agni himself? All their crap on the Divine Right of Kings? It's instilled pretty hard into their minds, and it's not going to break so easy. It needs to be someone of royal blood on that throne."

"Ugh, politics." Katara sighed, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles in the blanket. "Look, I don't have a problem with General Iroh taking the throne. Let reorganising the Fire Nation be _his_ problem, and he can choose his own successor."

"You know who he would choose." Toph said quietly. Katara stiffened. "Look, I'm saying-"

"Well, _don't!"_ Katara snapped. "Damn it Toph, I don't want to hear it! He attacked me! For no reason! He's out of control and we can't trust him!" Toph opened her mouth to respond, thought the better of it, and shook her head, biting her lip. Katara's hand instinctively drifted to her bare throat. He seemed so _scared_ in that anteroom. Below Ba Sing Se. And then to burst into a violent rage, so freely and easily. How could they ever put any sort of faith into someone so unstable?

"I'm with Katara." Sokka spoke up. "Toph... You weren't there before. You don't _know_... What he was like. What he did. Now, you can sit there and say he's changed until he's blue in the face, but I'm not gonna buy it. People can't just change like that. It's not possible."

"Guess I'm outvoted." Toph muttered, crossing her arms. It was beyond infuriating. They were stubbornly hung up on the past and she was sick of it. Maybe they didn't realise how bad the situation was. They had no one, _no one_ to aid their cause, without Aang. Their Allies were sparse, and here was someone who was a good fighter and a hefty political power, and they refused to listen to reason! Yes, he was a stubborn little brat, Toph wasn't going to be idealistic, but no one had a personal agenda against Ozai quite like him. And she had _promised_ Iroh that she would do her best to try and bring them around. How, when they refused to even consider?

_I'm probably being too harsh. _She suppressed a sigh, and curled her toes in the cloth confinement. _Of course they're going to be wary about him. They already tried trusting him, and well... It didn't go so good. They can't keep him in line, but I could. He's not complicated, just a guy with daddy issues and anger problems._

_At least there's the White Lotus. Whatever that is._ Toph mused in the uneasy silence. _Some kind of secret society, huh? Something like that would come in handy right now... Everything slipping through our fingers and we have to cling on to what's left._

_I just hope they're not a bunch of damn pacifists. _

* * *

Zuko slept, briefly.

It was more of a doze, restless and uneasy, punctuated by the sounds of cooking, a child laughing, the low chatter of talk, and the frequent clang of the coal-stove. He tried for an hour to reclaim sleep, his head stuffed with cotton, eyes itching, but eventually Zuko turned onto his back, flung the covers aside, and groaned.

He didn't want to get up. It wasn't the tiredness and exhaustion that chained him to the narrow bed, it was guilt, fear. Maybe if he retreated from the word, he could forget about the situation he had landed in. Maybe he could think it was all a dream.

Bullshit.

Zuko finally sat up, swivelling his legs over the side of the bed, head sinking to his hands. _What am I going to do, really? What the hell can I do now? I've ruined my chances with Aang, I've lost my Uncle, I'm a full-blown traitor of the Fire Nation... If it weren't for Jin I'd be completely alone and Agni knows I can't go through that again..._

He weighed up the pros and cons carefully. Pro, he was alive. Con, Aang probably wasn't. Pro, his sister had no idea where he even was. Con, Ba Sing Se was about to be invaded very, very soon. Pro, he had Jin. Con, he'd lost his Uncle. Pro, he had friends and allies. Con, only a handful knew the truth. Pro, he could still do _something_ to protect Ba Sing Se and fight against his father. Con, he had no idea what.

Zuko finally stood up, trying to think. Jin told him to relax, take the day, but how could he? How could he simply _forget_ the situation he was in? How could he pretend nothing was wrong?

_I have to talk to the men at the Dancing Monkey. I have to explain things to them and see what they think. They're the friends that Jin was talking about last night. If anyone will try and get Uncle out, it'll be them. They have to do something! I had no idea how important he was until we got to Ba Sing Se, the secret meetings they held, it was so strange. What was he planning for us? Maybe he was trying to raise an army himself. Possibly. I don't understand, how he could have said all that crap about peace and prosperity, and in the same breath said that something needed to be done, that we had an important roles to play in the War, me especially. Was he just trying to pacify me? _Zuko took the dead candlestick from the bedside table, fumbling slightly in the gloom as he made his way to the doorway. He braced himself, squared his shoulders, and pulled the door open. The passage door was open, providing a wedge of pale light, enough for him to see by. Zuko entered the smallish room quietly, hoping even that he might go unnoticed.

"Morning." Shan was kneading a large lump of dough, powered lightly in flour to the elbows. "Breakfast is in the pot on the stove. Help yourself." She didn't look up from her work as she dug her fingers into the dough, spread it out across the table, sprinkled another handful of flour on to thicken the dough and stretch it further, rolling it back into a lump and forcing the heels of her hands into the soft mixture. Chang was focused very intently on his own little fistful of dough, rolling it first into a snake, then shaping it into a person, and finally forming a little grey loaf, which he raised towards his mouth. "Chang, don't you dare." She snapped quickly, eyes never leaving her work. Zuko scraped the last of the lumpy oatmeal from the bottom of the cast-iron saucepan and knelt at the table gingerly.

"I'm very sorry about this morning." He eventually spoke up. "Jin and I honestly didn't do anything last night, we just slept, I was just really stressed out, and-"

"Lee, it's fine." Satisfied that the dough was mixed enough, Shan wrapped the mixture in a sheaf of thin, waxy rice-paper. "I don't blame_ you_ for anything. You're the nicest young man that's walked through this door and that's a fact. Jin's the worry. She doesn't think, that girl. She doesn't consider the consequences. She thinks she knows what's best and to hell with everyone else." She then wrapped the papered dough in coarse fabric and stood up, hunting around for some string. Zuko ate silently. "I've tried to talk to her countless times, but we just butt heads. She's even worse with her father. They haven't really gotten along for a few years now. He just thinks she's wild." Shan found her roll of twine, and kneeled at the table, binding the wrapped parcel of uncooked bread.

"I could say something." Zuko offered, seeing considerable truth in the woman's words. How often had Jin jumped into something without thinking, just in the past couple of days?

"Oh, no no no." Shan shook her head firmly. "Lee, that is not your place. If you try to control her, she'll just push you away. Jin's had a couple of very bad experiences with young men who thought they could do just that, and she's been on her guard since. She's got a stronger sense of self than most. Sometimes it borders on irrational. She's kicked aside some nice boys for no apparent reason, like that Riku... Then what do I know, she swore he was a pig..." She finally lifted herself from her thoughts. "Anyway, you don't have to say a thing to her. We're her parents. We're meant to do the worrying."

"All the same..." Zuko stared into his empty bowl. "I know there's things she's not telling me... I wish she would."

"... Ah." Shan settled down, resting her elbows on the table. She exhaled deeply, running her fingers through her hair. "No, not my place. She'll tell you when she's ready."

"So she doesn't trust me?" Zuko frowned, thinking of their confrontation the afternoon before. Where she accused him of being disgusted of her. _Of course she's going to keep things from me if I act like that._

_But if it's something worse, do I want to know? There are a few things I still haven't told her, whether I'm ashamed or frightened of myself, or her, I don't know. Baring your soul is hard. Opening up your past indiscretions, it's... painful. Sometimes things should just be buried._

"Oh, that's a difficult word." Shan rose to her feet, taking her straw basket from the sideboard. She tried to be tactful. "There's nothing anyone can do about it now, anyways. So what is she going to trust you with?"

"A secret?" Zuko pushed aside his empty bowl, staring at the tabletop. "The past his hard, I understand that, but-"

"Chang, don't _touch_ that!" A small slap on the wrist, and he retreated from the stove, sniffing. "How many times have I _told_ you! Oh, Lee dear. Don't think on it. Past is past, move on and look forward. Now." She took her shawl down from the bent nail that served as a hook. "I'm going into town to get this bread baked. And today's rice day and I've been saving all month. I'm hoping to get a fifty-pounder."

"Fifty pounds?" Zuko blinked.

"With luck." Shan bent down, took his bowl, and stacked it with the others alongside the washbasin. "Even with the handcart cost, it's much cheaper to buy fifty pounds once a month than ten pounds a week, the holder wants to sell off as much as he can."

"I can carry it." Zuko offered. Roughly half the weight of a young woman? It was entirely doable. Maybe it would help distract his mind. He never went to the marketplace, he'd claimed the smell and noise were aggravating, so his Uncle was always the one who bought things...

Uncle. Zuko wrinkled his nose. It was impossible for the elderly man to just be wiped clean from his mind! He was the most important person in the world to him, how was it even remotely possible that he could just forget?

"Oh, you don't have to do that, the cart's not that much and it's exhausting work to carry. I used to make Jiro do it but ever since the accident at work he can't lift anything heavy. He's one mistake away from a broken back and I tell him constantly to be careful but he doesn't listen and oh, it's so _worrying_." She paused, remembering herself and stalling her train of thought. "But, yes, I'll be fine. I'm sure you have some things to do. Don't sit around here in the dark all day, dear."

"I honestly don't mind." Zuko said earnestly. "Trust me, I'm stronger than I look. I can carry a sack of rice. I had to carry my Uncle half a mile once after he was knocked out by-" He caught himself. "A falling branch." Shan had noticed the near slip-up and uncomfortable pause, but said nothing. "It's the least I can do after eating all your food and taking up your sons' bed."

"If you insist." She finally smiled. "Hurry up and get the rest of your clothes on first. Chang, you too. I'm not leaving you alone." Begrudgingly, the young child stood up and walked heavily to the bedroom. Zuko nodded, knees creaking as he rose to his feet. He arched his back in a stretch, sighing a long yawn. When he walked into the room, he found Chang on the floor, fingering the hilt of his Dao swords.

"Be careful." The boy jumped two feet in the air, squeaking. "If you slit your hand, I'll have to explain it to your mother." Zuko took the swords and set them on a top bunk. "Besides, you're too little for swords." He found his long trousers, threading his ankles through the cuffs. "You don't have the strength in the arm or wrist to wield the weight. If you had a knife or dagger, you'd have a much easier time." Chang was staring at him. "Not yet, of course." Zuko added quickly, remembering that he was talking to a four year old. "When you're older. Eight. Ten. Don't tell your mother I said that." He pulled on his long sleeved shirt, and picked his long tunic from the ground. Why did the people like Ba Sing Se enjoy wearing so many damn layers? "You should get dressed kid." He slung his swords at his waist. "What?"

"How did you get that scar?" There it was again. Zuko swallowed. Of course he was going to ask. He was probably waiting for a moment when they were alone, away from his mother and her scolding. Of course he was going to be curious. He was extremely young. Did he even know anything about what was going on, inside the walls or outside?

"A monster." Zuko said quickly, truthfully. "Put your clothes on, we have to go." He left the room quietly, and when in the darkened hall, leaned against the wall, sighing. _Agni, why do they always have to ask? _He remembered Lee, something in his stomach tightening. _All they get is lies. Because if I tell the truth, I get rejected. _

_But, there's a single exception._ Zuko's hand drifted to his pocket, fingers running along the broken gold chain, the rectangular jade pendant. _Maybe they'll be the same. _

_Not going to risk it._ Zuko snapped to a standing position, blew his bangs out of face, smoothed his clothing. _I need to get into the marketplace. See if I can catch any sort of gossip. Try and find out what's going on. No one will be at the Dancing Monkey 'til after lunch though. If anyone knows what's going on in the castle... with... Uncle... It'll be them. _

_Maybe they'll even try a jailbreak._ He dared to hope.

* * *

"Is Aang settled in?" Hakoda's voice made Katara start, the girl looking up as her father let go of the rope latter, making his way across the small interior of the ship. "Anything I can get you?"

"Thanks Dad, but we're fine." Katara didn't dare to sling Aang in one of the hammocks – instead she lay down the largest, most comfortable fur she could find in the corner, setting up her own new sleeping bag a little to the left. She smoothed the woven blanket carefully, sighing. "Just have to keep an eye on him now. His breathing is steady."

"He's sure a fighter." Hakoda crouched down beside his daughter. "This isn't for long. We're going to head out and try to snag a lone ship under the cover of darkness. That way we can move about the ocean freely without suspicion and maybe gather information when we reach some port towns." Katara nodded silently. "Sokka gave us a long list of people to notify about the eclipse. But we should wait and see what state Aang will be in before we make any definite plans."

"He won't be ready." Katara murmured quietly. "The eclipse is in just under two months. He might be healed by then but he won't be ready. He'll have to train so much to get his fitness back up to scratch."

"Well... we'll see." Hakoda wrapped an arm around his daughter. "It's best we stay on the move anyway, just in case Ozai is looking for you and Sokka." He stood up. "Speaking of, I have to go and see Sokka off. He's taking the bison up and scouting around for us." Katara nodded silently. "Should I tell him that you said goodbye?"

"If you want." Her eyes never left Aang's face. With a long sigh, Hakoda made his way out on deck, finding Sokka leaning against the mast of the ship, legs stretched out before him in a doze. "Sokka?"

"'m up!" The boy jerked uncomfortably, rubbing at his eyes. "Sorry... Just thought I would rest my eyes."

"It's fine." Hakoda chuckled, extending an arm. "Are you sure you'll be okay up there by yourself? One of the others could come with you."

"I'll be fine." Sokka gave him a smile as he was hauled into a standing position. "You can trust me with this, Dad." He added, looking out at the beach. "I won't let you down."

"Sokka, is this still about you wanting to prove something to me?" Hakoda demanded after a moment of silence. Sokka gave a little shrug of his shoulders, but said nothing. "You know that I trust you. Bato told me about everything you've done with the Avatar, and you've filled in the rest."

"I know." Sokka sighed, his shoulders slumping with the long exhalation. "And I'm proud of that, it's just... You've never seen me in action, you know?" He gave a shrug. "I know I'm being stupid."

"No, you're not." Hakoda's hand drifted back to Sokka's shoulder. He wanted to hug him, the desire to embrace the young man like a child rising in his chest. But, tactful as ever, he knew it inappropriate when his son was trying so hard to exert his masculinity. "Now come. It's time we got going."

"Right." Sokka detached himself, made his way down the gangplank with a trot and landed with a _thud_ on the sand. "I'll see you by the evening!" He called, thudding across the sand towards Appa. Hakoda gave a wave, a smile, before leaning against the side of his ship with a sigh, watching as the bison reared into the sky with a low roar.

"You should be damn proud Hakoda." Bato groaned as he set down the heavy barrel of fresh water, greeting his best friend with a smile. "If my three boys at home turn out to be half the man Sokka is now, I'll be surprised."

"Thanks, Bato." Hakoda turned to regard the other man, looking thoughtful. "Say... You miss them, don't you..."

"More than you know." Bato sat down with a slump on the squat barrel. "You have no idea how lucky you are to have Katara and Sokka. If mine were a little older, I would kill to bring them here."

"Leaving Sokka behind was the hardest thing I ever had to do." Hakoda passed a hand over his eyes. "He was old enough to come with us, really. If it wasn't for Katara, I think I would have brought him. The bit about him protecting the tribe was a terrible excuse. He knows it as well as I do."

"Not long now." Bato looked at the hatch leading below deck, uncertainly. "Hakoda... If Aang doesn't make it... We have to go home. There's nothing left to fight for."

"I know." Hakoda mumbled. "I've been thinking about that. With the Earth Kingdom conquered, the Firelord is going to look at the last gatherings of free people that stand at the edge of the empire, the last pinpricks of life, left to block out. It's us, and our sister tribe in the north. We can't withstand any more attacks, Bato, we're nearly extinct."

"So what do we do?" Bato watched the man rise to a straightened position, Hakoda walking to the prow of the boat, hands behind his back in thought.

"Migration." It made Hakoda feel sick, just to say it. "Find somewhere more secluded. Maybe go further south. Or maybe even try and slip past them and go up North. Katara told me how well they withstand a siege. We need to be practical. And Bato," Hakoda turned back to the other man, mouth set in a hard line. "Tell no one about this conversation. It's not the best for morale."

"You have every confidence." Bato replied, looking stricken. "It's... terrifying. All we can really do is hide in the most remote corner of the world we can find and wait to be hunted down." Hakoda was silent.

Lying on the sand at the foot of the small ship, resting, sensitive ears, catching every word, Toph snorted, shaking her head.

"Fatalists." She muttered to herself, concealed in the little pool of shade.

* * *

"As you can see Princess Azula, most of these prisoners are guilty of crimes against the government of Ba Sing Se. The conspirators and rebels, those who have physically injured or killed the Dai Li or broken our explicit laws on state secrets and peace." Long Feng walked slowly along the dimly lit passage, Azula at his left. "Those who we consider... Unfit for rehabilitation."

"I see." Azula murmured. "The troublemakers, in other words. Those who give the Dai Li a headache."

"Precisely." He gave her a sidelong glance as they approached the other end of the hallway.

"Any breakouts?"

"Just when the Avatar broke out his ally. There was a boy in the same cell who also escaped, but a search hasn't found anything underground."

"Leave it." Azula muttered. "I need the Dai Li to keep the city in order. My father's troops will be here in two days and I can't afford to have the final stage of this invasion go wrong. As for these," She waved her hand at the long wing of cells, "I'll keep them where they are." Azula said. "It's secure enough, and all this lot will do is stir up trouble. Nothing will be gained from releasing them to the public." She looked at Long Feng in profile. "We'll release the petty criminals, the thieves and pickpockets, to make space for the dissidents we'll inevitably be forced to take care of. The meticulous social order you have constructed won't come crashing down, Long Feng." She smirked. "Yet." They passed a wide doorway, the heavy door flung open.

"What's in there?" Azula paused. Long Feng, aware of his situation, a servant and lackey, who was in reality lucky to be on the other side of those bars, gave a slight bow.

"We have several prisoners who are unwell or injured." Long Feng stated. "We do our best to keep them in good health, so they are able to face punishment."

"Of course." Azula wandered into the room. There were less than a dozen beds, low cots barely a foot off the floor. Half of them were filled. The unlucky victims were chained by the wrists and ankles. Four Dai Li stood at the door, a single nurse checking papers at a low desk. They were nearly all pale, thin faces with sunken eyes and visible cheekbones. Dying of malnutrition, most likely. "You keep reasonable care of our prisoners. In the Fire Nation, we leave them to rot in their cells." Her eyes fell on the figure closest to her, a narrow, heavily tanned face under an unruly mop of hair. Azula stilled, and crouched down, pulling aside the ragged excuse for a blanket. The bandages wrapped thickly over his torso were wet with blood. True, he looked sick, with dark shadows under his eyes and occasionally twitching with spasms of pain, unconscious. But Azula was sure. "Who is he?" She narrowed her eyes. "Do you have a file? What is his name?"

"Princess Azula, I-"

"I _asked_ you, what is his name?" Azula straightened herself. "What happened here?"

"Jet." Long Feng answered shortly, annoyed. "But I don't see wha-"

"That filthy _peasant,"_ Azula snarled "is the leader of a dangerous group of rebels who have severely impaired the Fire Nation campaign in the Southern Earth Kingdom. My father has issued a personal reward for his capture and his wanted poster hangs in every village throughout the south-western provinces. _How injured is he?"_

"Near death." Long Feng admitted. "I'm amazed he lasted this long, to be hone-"

"Well," Azula took a step towards the fallen puppetmaster, nose wrinkling. "You make_ sure_ that scum lives, so we can take him to my father and give him a traitor's death. We do _not_ let rebels slip through our fingers. Understand, Long Feng?"

"Yes, Princess Azula." He bowed so low, a bone cricked in his back. She snorted, and turned away, the soft soles of her shoes padding quietly out of the room, her short command to the guards to open the two-foot thick door that cut off the high-security wing to the underground maze of a prison seeming to boom in his ears. She was done with him, for the moment.

He wasn't sure who he was most disgusted with: Haughty, arrogant, Azula, who treated him like a spurned dog, Jet, who was stubborn and defiant and _refused to die_,

Or himself, for letting this condescending little upstart_ win_.

* * *

OMG THE DRAMAZ

But in all seriousness, fuck you creators for not giving us closure on Jet.

I know I say it all the time but I mean it this time: update won't take a horrifically long time.

And I know I say that, too.

ALSO

Thinking about writing another fic, a more epic-y (But still with Romance), Zuko-centric semi-AU. It would detract attention from this, but it would also be much more kickass because I am slightly more competent as a writer and it won't have a weak beginning like this and I would actually try to work through the flaws rather than throwing up my hands in defeat as I have done so many times in this fic.

Yes? No? Lobster?


	22. Chapter 22

Wooa. I'm so sorry. To make up for this, I compounded what was going to be two chapters into one extra-long one. I don't know if that makes it better or what.

I promise that I will never leave it that long again. I won't let myself.

Also I got my inspiration back. I WANT to write. I've been writing every night for the last two weeks, something that hasn't happened since I was about eighteen. (And I'm twenty now so yes that was a while ago. I'm old, I know.)

I hope that you guys enjoy this chapter. It's kind of the final 'set-up' if that makes any sense. Now, FINALLY, I can get to what I've been wanting to write about all along. A mere 160,000 words into the story.

I realised also that I wrote chapters 16/17/18 over a year ago. Which means that in story time, it's only been two nights. In real life, it's been more like eighteen months. Unfortunately, my writing reflects that a lot, I think. But I'm sure you all can get over it. I'm sure as hell not writing it again, har har.

I suppose I should shut up now and let you all read. And disclaimer etc. etc.

* * *

"Well, you look like something the cat threw up."

"Thanks." Jin muttered sullenly, arms straining to push the clothes through the chemical-laden water. "I feel pretty damn fantastic, actually."

"Really?" Lien paused as she analysed her sarcastic friend, eyes widening as they settled on Jin's injured hand. "What happened?" She gasped aloud, pulling in. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Jin hissed, withdrawing her hand quickly. "Look, don't draw attention, Mrs. Chan will take me off the line and Ma can't afford to go without."

"Okay, okay." Lien backed off, alarmed. She couldn't resist, however, and after a few minutes of careful stirring, she leaned in again, whispering in Jin's ear, "I heard about your brother?"

"What?" Jin jerked awkwardly, boiling water sloshing down the front of her dress. She yelped, scalded, and pulled the rapidly cooling fabric away from her skin. "Wh-Who told you?"

"Relax." Lien waved her hand. "Meilin told her brother Bolin, who's been going around with Mingzhu for months, and she told her cousin Mei, who told Jia, which is a _totally_ bad idea, _everyone_ knows what a gossip she is, but she kept it relatively quiet and only told her crowd at the spinners, and I ran into Liqin on the way to work, and cos she knows I work with you she told me to tell you congrats and when's the celebrations?"

"Celebrations?" Jin murmured vaguely, trying to untangle the somewhat complicated social web that Lien wove around her head. "For what?"

"Your brother, duh!" Lien blinked. "Come on, when has anyone _ever_ escaped from the Dai Li after so long? I can't believe you didn't party last night, girl."

"Oh." Jin shook her head. "I guess I didn't... You heard other things though, right?"

"Oh yeah, that stupid rumour about the Fire Nation?" She lowered her voice for the last two syllables. Jin's stomach tightened. "No one believes that. I know they tried to drill through the Outer Wall, but the Avatar stopped him. There's no way they could ever get in. I wonder who spun that stupid story..."

"It's not a story." Jin's voice was stiff and tight. Lien stilled. "It's not just a stupid rumor..." She leaned in, very close. "The Earth Kingdom was overthrown and he fled the Palace. It's the Fire Lords daughter on the throne."

"Tch. Yeah." Lien rolled her eyes, returning to the metal vat of bubbling clothes, heavily stained fabric that required the stains to be literally cooked right out of the material.

"It's true." Jin laid her injured hand on Lien's arm. "I was there, and so was Meng." The other girl slowed her movements, turning to look her friend in the eye. "I know you don't want to believe it. I sure as anything don't want to either. But it's true, as true as anything. I don't know when they're going to actually secure the city but it's going to be soon. You have to be _careful_ Lien, trust me."

"You can't be-"

"Serious? I am." Jin's voice shook. "Everything you heard is true and it you don't regard it, you're dead. We thought the Dai Li were bad, we don't know what we're in for." Lien's face sank, the colour of bone.

"Wh-Why were you there?" the sixteen-year-old's voice was small, and piteous. "Why you? And your brother? What... What happened?"

"Unimportant." Jin brushed the question off easily. "I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or maybe the right place. But Lien, please promise me that you'll keep your head down. And my brother... You're still seeing him?" A nod. "Please, he won't listen to me. I'm only his sister. I'm only a few minutes older than him, he never pays attention to me, really. But he will listen to you if you make him. You know how he feels about the city as it is. The invasion will only make him feel worse. He'll try and rebel, and he'll end up getting killed. And Ma can't take that." Jin didn't mention herself. "It terrifies her, thinking that he'll get himself executed for trying something rebellious. And he will. Of course he will."

"He's been talking about it a lot." Lien gave the other a sidelong glance. "He said that it was the perfect time, the Avatar was back and with us. He would back up the common people. Jiro was so sure that it was the time. A lot of people were agreeing with him, too."

"I know. I heard." Jin murmured grimly. "It won't work. Revolution, I mean. Whoever takes over, will be worse. Power corrupts. It would have to be a really strong person to sit on the throne and not go mad with power."

"Yeah. Jiro said that." Lien murmured. "He said that we had to get rid of the King altogether, and establish a new order, where we elect not just the government officials, but everyone, even the person who ruled. And it's not just those in the upper and middle ring who can vote, but everyone, even women."

"He said that?" Jin was worried. "Don't tell me he's been going around the bars saying that, please." She had no idea. When it came to the social scene, Jin was starting to get a little out of touch. "People with radical ideals go missing, and Jiro already has a record."

"No way. Sheng and I make sure that he keeps his lips sealed. I don't exactly want to see him disappear either, you know." Lien's eyes lowered to the vat of steaming clothes, cheeks flushing. It was a long period of silence before she spoke again. "Do you know when it will happen? The invasion proper?"

"No idea." Jin breathed. "Depends on how close to the city they have all their tanks and forces. It could be tonight. It could be a week away. Just... Stay indoors and make sure your siblings don't wander off." Jin referred to her friends' four little sisters. "Not that I'm one to give advice. Lee knows more about this than anyone."

"Oh, right. Your little foreign boy."

"He's not foreign." Jin frowned. "He's from the Earth Kingdom, like us."

"Ha. If you're from outside the city, you may as well be from the other side of the world." Lien said. "Not knocking him, it's true. But he's been through this before, right? A lot of refugees have. Spirits, I feel worst for them. They came here to try and escape from it all and now it's happening all over again. What if they raze the city?" Her eyes were wide and fearful.

"It's too big." Jin explained. "It would be more effort than it's worth. Better to just enslave us and reap the financial benefits. I mean, look at this factory. It won't go out of business. We may end up washing the clothes of Fire nation nobility. Or they could manufacture something else I guess. Process steel, or manufacture weapons or machinery-"

"Ugh, stop it!" Lien stamped her foot. "_Please!"_

"All right." But Jin breathed it so lowly, that Lien didn't hear. Not wanting to further the conversation, her own resolve starting to crumble, Jin found the waterproof gloves, lead-lined that ran to the elbow, protecting her from the boiling water, and began to remove the chemically-treated cloth from the bubbling vat. It went into another metal tub, three feet high and two wide, which, when full, was pushed down the line to the girls working the cold water rinse.

_I'm not deluded._ Jin was adamant. _I know things you don't. Aang isn't dead. Not completely. And Zuko... I'm not sure what his role is yet. He doesn't know either. But he has to do something. He's far too important to sit back and let this happen. And I know that he'll change the War, not the Avatar. At least, I hope. He won't cave in on us. Not now. Not when we need him most. I'm sure... I hope..._

_Maybe I am deluded. I'm building him up when I need to remember he's only human. A young, damaged human, with serious emotional problems that aren't going to go away. I'm amazed he hasn't just chucked it in yet. I would have. _

_Then, that's the difference. He's as stubborn as hell and doesn't let anything get him down. And, I'm jealous for that. He can go on alone, even if it's not very well. He can still do it. I just crumble and reach out blindly until someone can pull me back up. _She didn't understand that her view of Zuko was idealised, that he was nowhere as whole as she imagined. He was in pieces and it was only pride that stopped him from exposing his true inner self.

She continued the menial labour quietly, perfectly happy to indulge in a little delusion.

* * *

"Mama! Mama you _have_ to see this!"

Ugh. _Why_ did Zuko say that he would be willing to come to this stinking, rat-infested square again? The people, the noise, the _smell_. It was worse, far worse, than the thickest, most crowded main street in the city. This square had nearly thirty wooden stalls crammed into the space, constructing a confusing maze of narrow walkways, where Zuko was pushed, kicked and jostled, struggling to keep his grip on the heavy sack of rice.

"In a _second_." Zuko pressed his sleeve over his nose as a particularly noxious scent, in the form of an extremely unwashed old man with a crutch and one leg, hobbled by. Rotting flesh. No wonder infant mortality was high and they were lucky if they lived past fifty. The man's amputated leg should have been sealed with a red-hot iron. Instead, it had been left open to putrefaction and disease, leaving the man dead in less than a month and probably infecting those who had close, regular contact with him.

"But _Mama!"_ Chang's voice, high-pitched, barely rose above the din of the square. "It's so _cute!_ This man has a little white monkey and it's playing a drum! You should see its ears, they're _huge_."

"Chang, be _quiet!" _The woman snapped roughly, turning back to the fishmonger. Zuko waited patiently, shrinking back from the crowd, trying to breathe through his mouth. "Lee dear, here's the key, can you ta-"

"I'm on it." He almost snatched the large brass key from her outstretched hand, pushing it into her pocket. Zuko repositioned the rice so it slung over his shoulder, seizing the child's bony little wrist. "I'll see you soon." She was absorbed in her haggling with the fishmonger over a string of lean smoked fish, their dead glassy eyes reflecting the early afternoon sun and hurting Zuko's eyes.

"Lee, you have to see it." Chang implored the teenager, tugging at his hand and turning in the opposite direction. "It's not like the other monkeys, it's special. Do you have any food for it?"

"Chang, I..." Zuko sighed. "All right, okay. Whatever." He hadn't been around children much in his life, but he knew enough to let them have their way when they nagged. "Show me this white monkey." Zuko paused. _White monkey? Only white monkey I've ever seen was..._

"It's over here!" He pulled his hand free, his sweaty palm slipping through Zuko's fingers, pushing his way through the crowd. Zuko panted to catch up, his shoulder aching.

"Chang, no!" Zuko became exasperated. "Look, we have to go, I told your mother I would take you home! Please, I want to get..." His voice trailed off when he saw the little white lemur standing on a very worn blanket, a chain leading from his ankle, snaking three feet across the blanket into the hands of an elderly man, nearly blind, who sat cross-legged against a high stone wall. ".. home." Zuko's knees weakened. _That can't be... Aang's lemur? It's not the last one left, They're rare but not extinct, it could have been the old man's for years... _

"Isn't it cute?" Chang knelt beside the lemur, watching it play. "I want it... But Mama says we can't afford to keep a pet." Zuko stared intently. _Damn... What was it's name? What did Aang call it? Bobby? Bobo? No, it had an M... Mimmy? Mamba? Mimi? Momo?_

_Momo!_ Zuko threw down the rice and knelt beside Chang, one hand grasping a corner of the sewn sack. "Momo?" Zuko ventured carefully. The gloomy looking lemur finally lifted its' head in recognition, and upon seeing Zuko, recognising his scent arched his back and narrowed his eyes in a hoarse kind of hiss. Startled, Chang leaped back, eyes wide.

"He doesn't like you." The child noted, misunderstanding the expression on Zuko's face. "It's okay, he's probably just shy."

"... Yeah." Zuko felt hollow. It was Aang's lemur all right – and it hated him. Of course it did. He had been there when Zuko attempted to defeat Aang, again and again. He didn't know much, if anything about lemurs, but they obviously weren't stupid. Of _course_ he was going to pick up his scent and recognise him as an enemy. Zuko felt hollow. What could he do? The poor thing looked awful – bedraggled, nursing a cut on one leg, and a gunky-looking eye, ears drooping. He had to do _something_, even if it meant stealing from an ancient, half-blind beggar.

No need to be so drastic. Zuko remembered the small collection of coins hidden inside his clothing. The wages Uncle Iroh had given to him. He still had a couple of gold coins left. No doubt it would be more money than this old man had ever seen, much less possessed. True, he didn't want to spend the last of his money buying back a lemur that hated the sight of him, but he had no other option. _And it'll be perfect. The others will have to accept I've changed if I've managed to rescue and look after their lemur. How could they still call me a jerk?_

"Hey." Zuko raised his voice, directing his attention to the elderly beggar. "How much for the lemur?"

"Huh?" He lifted his head, and looked at the teenager, bleary-eyed. "No. Not for sale..."

"I have money." Zuko pulled his hand out of his clothing, showing the gold in his hand, which glinted very plainly in the noon sunshine. Chang's eyes widened. "You'll never get this much peddling a miserable monkey." The elderly man stared very hard at the money in Zuko's hand, his lip trembling. "Great." Zuko didn't bother hanging around, seizing the chain and thrusting one of the coins in the withered, gnarled hand. "Chang, take it." He yanked the chain free, against the young boy's chest. The old man didn't argue, or struggle, to fixated on the small fortune in his hand. Chang accepted the lemur with a squawk, unable to utter a word. "C'mon." He slung the heavy sack of rice over his shoulder, and took a firm grasp of the child. "Don't let it go." Chang clutched the squirming lemur close to his chest, arms trembling.

Zuko's hands trembled as he led the child back through the higgledy-piggeldy maze of the marketplace. He thought he saw Shan shouting at the fishmonger, gesticulating wildly, but she was swallowed up in the thick press of smelly peasants.

"Why did you do that?" Chang said breathlessly the moment they turned into a side alley. Zuko paused and leaned against the wall, taking a breather. "Where did you get the _money?"_

"People get paid a lot more in the Upper Ring." The sun was almost unbearably hot. "And I did it because that lemur belongs to someone very important."

"Like the Earth King?" The boy's eyes widened. "Or one of the Ministers or Generals or-"

"No, not anyone like that." Zuko cut him off quickly. Momo had grown limp in Chang's arms. Maybe he realised that the little boy wasn't out to hurt him, or maybe he'd accepted his fate. Maybe it was shock. "It's... A friend." Why didn't he say that it was the Avatar? Not to a child. He would probably go telling everyone, what four year old wouldn't? "He'd want me to look after it." He straightened up, kicked himself off the wall, straightened the sack of rice. "Come on, let's get home. I want a drink." He took Chang's hand and continued to march down the narrow side alley, hoping his sense of direction was right.

* * *

"Hey."

Meng didn't look up from the table where he crouched, one hand propping up his elbow. Jin closed the door behind her quietly, leaning against it for a moment in sheer exhaustion. She noticed the glumness of her brother and straightened herself, a frown creasing her forehead. Dai Shi, a man she hadn't seen in years, sat beside her brother, in an attempt to console him. Jin gave him a short greeting, but her attention was drawn to Meng, who looked near tears.

"What happened?" She breathed as she sat down on the other side of Meng, resting a hand on his arm. "Dai Shi, where did you go?"

"Found his old girlfriend." His voice sounded heavy. "It... Yeah. Not good. I should have done a bit of looking first. My bad."

"What? I didn't even know you had a girlfriend Meng." Her hand tightened. "You never said anything. What happened? She's not... Well, dead, is she?"

"Worse." Meng's voice shook. "_Married."_ His head slumped into the table, arms folded underneath his face. Jin winced. "I thought about her _every single damn day_ and she's _married!" _ He straightened himself, face bone-white and chin trembling. "To some bloody official twice her age! She was married off to the man who had his nose furthest up Long Feng's ass and I can't-" Meng gritted his teeth, burying his palms into his eyesockets. "_Fuck."_

"O-Oh." Jin's ears were ringing, a violent storm of guilt thrashing in her stomach. She was at an utter loss for words. She tried to speak, string together a sentence, but only strangled fragments of words tumbled from her lips, and she shut her mouth and ducked her head, embarrassed. _It wasn't just us he lost... I never even knew there was a girl..._

"S'okay man." Dai Shi murmured. "Not like Mi Yin is the only girl in Ba Sing Se. You'll find someone else to-"

"I don't _want_ someone else!" Meng shouted. He was crying. "I want _her!_"

"Then have her!" Jin shot back, getting excited. "Take her back, crawl into her bedroom in the middle of the night, explain everything, and spirit her away back to your hideout and-"

"Oh Jin, shut up." Meng snapped. "It's nothing like that. She doesn't even _know_ me. Know how we met? Dai Shi, Tao and I stole the clothes from a nobleman's laundry and snuck into a garden party. We did it nearly half a dozen times before I got... Yeah. Well, I met her twice, three times. We didn't even... Ugh, I was _deluding_ myself. It was stupid, of course it was, but we kept getting away with it and we kept going back. She probably doesn't even remember me."

"I think you impressed her." Dai Shi remarked. "You were good-looking and interesting and she swallowed all the lies you told."

"Don't remind me." Meng muttered. "I lied til my tongue was black... She thought I was studying economics and rhetoric at the university and my father was an official. If she knew that I was a peasant..."

"So what?" Jin challenged, getting riled. "Are you saying that class actually matters? That birth right matters more than personality and physical appearance? Are you saying that the son of an Emperor couldn't date a pauper?" She made sure that he was looking her in the eye.

"That's different." Meng turned away. "And He's not really an Emperor... Well, yet. Look, she's married now, so I just have to forget about it." He closed his eyes, exhaling deeply. "Look Jin, I kind of just want to be alone with Dai Shi at the moment. You don't get it. It's different. I appreciate the sympathy but it's just not helping. Please."

"Oh, all _right_." Jin heaved herself up with a long sigh, and dragged her aching body along the passage and into her dark little room. She'd been at the box-mangling again that day, the muscles on her arms, neck, and shoulders inflamed and throbbing, utterly weak. She planned on collapsing into her bed, maybe getting an hour or so of sleep before her mother would inevitably come home and set her to work. She wondered where Zuko was. If she was less tired, she would have gone to look for him.

As Jin slid the door closed, shuffling across the dark room with the closed skylight, her toe knocked into something big, heavy, and judging from the sound, hollow. Eyes struggling to adjust in the gloom, Jin was able to make out a vague dark shape, rectangular, squat, and wide. In confusion she reached for her stool, and mechanically put it under the skylight, stepping up and unlatching the little wooden hatch. Too tired to push it up, Jin let it hang, bathloads of sunlight filling the room and hurting her eyes.

It was a trunk. Jin stilled, staring at the wooden carvings on the lid for a few moments before crouching down so she could study them closer. The colour was dark, cherry-wood, probably, as it was very reddish. The designs themselves were ornate, rows upon rows of severe, geometric patterns, circles and squares, inexplicably the current fashion in furniture design. The latch was very heavy, made of brass, and unlocked. She drew it carefully, and lifted the lid slowly, half-afraid of what she might find. She never once thought to respect someone's privacy and let alone, or even to go in and ask Meng who the trunk belonged to. As far as she was concerned, it had been left in her room, and she was free to examine at will.

There was a brass hinge on the trunk and the lid stood up of its own accord, hanging like an open mouth. Jin wasn't quite sure what she was expecting, but she was pleasantly surprised at what she found. A couple of richly woven blankets. A large silken cushion. Glass jars of spices, perhaps, or tea leaves. Plates and bowls in pristine white gleamed up at her. A few handsomely bound books. A Pai Sho set in a box laden with gold. Half a dozen silver spoons. A teapot painted with a couple in love under a blossoming tree, and several gold-rimmed cups to match, in a chocolate-coloured wooden box. A few sets of robes, some that looked to be for a portly old man when she held then up, and others that looked to be for a boy. A small bejewelled figurine of a bird. A scroll with the picture of a young man she hadn't seen before, surrounded in letters that were completely foreign. Jin took everything out of the trunk, holding it up to the light and examining it closely. She opened the lids of the jars and sniffed cautiously, finding them to be a range of teas, some strong and bitter, some very sweet and rich. All had their own addictive smell, and she found herself taking big sniffs of the aroma again and again. She studied the cushion closely, running her fingers over the embroidery and tracing the patterns, feeling the silk threads under her skin. She leafed through the books, struggling to pick through the narrative but failing, too many of the elegant characters alien to her. She shook out the blankets and wrapped them around herself, testing their thickness. They were very warm. Jin spent nearly half an hour examining the belongings in the tiniest detail. She had never even seen such luxuries before, let alone had the privilege to examine them at her own leisure. Her curiosity grew as she carefully stacked the belongings around her in careful piles. Who did they belong to, and why were they in her room?

Finally, she lifted a little wooden box from the bottom of the trunk. It was plain, the catch basic and without a lock. It looked like it would contain letters maybe, or jewellery. No, jewellery would be in a nicer box amongst these belongings. Nevertheless, her heart quickened a little in excitement as she slid the catch. What did the plain little box hold?

At first, when she opened it, Jin was disappointed. It looked like junk, a few scraps of paper, a brass ring, a few copper coins, spare toggles for clothing, a whetting stone, a nail, a small jar of strong-smelling cream that Jin unscrewed and sniffed cautiously, pulling a face. It smelled familiar, yet she couldn't quite place it. She rifled through the box, but could find nothing of note, until she pushed aside the junk and realised that the box itself was shallow. Very shallow. With a frown, she upended the box on the ground, getting a little careless, and with her nails managed to prise free the false bottom of the box.

Again, she faced initial disappointment. There was a heart-shaped rock, made of a black, volcanic stone. It looked like a largely natural formation, which had been smoothed and rounded at the top and tapered at the end to form a definitive point. She ran her fingers over it gently, feeling the rough, porous surface beneath her skin. It was very pretty, and looked as though it had been given to the owner of the trunk as token of love and affection. Jin set it aside, and too the piece of paper. Folded in half, it was thick, and yellowed a little. It looked as though it had been wet at some point in time, had been torn into pieces and glued back together, and was slightly warped. Jin unfolded it carefully, her breath seizing in her throat as she stared at the three figures in the picture. It was an ink drawing, soft, intimate, finely crafted and exquisite. A man standing under a tree took up the centre of the picture. He was smiling, his hand on the shoulder of a woman resting on a bamboo stool. She held an infant in her arms, a thick little thatch of black hair covering its tiny ivory forehead. She was smiling, and it seemed genuine. All three wore thick robes, even the child. Jin's eyes were drawn to the headpieces worn by the man and the woman. Made of gold, they resembled idealised flames. Her heart felt sick as she ran her fingers over the figure of the child, stomach tightening in realisation. Whose trunk it was, and whose picture this belonged to. _This is Zuko._

She folded the picture quickly, and looked up, aware that she was snooping, paranoid that someone could be watching her. Of course, she was alone, but just to be sure, Jin arched her neck and looked up at the skylight. After a few moments, she slowly unfolded the battered picture, this time focusing on the face of the man. Fire Lord Ozai. It was clearly old, if the infant in the mother's arms was Zuko, and Ozai himself couldn't have been older than twenty. The artist had reconstructed his face perfectly. But although he was smiling, there was something in his brow, his eyes, that chilled her. She'd never seen someone with such cold eyes.

_At least Zuko doesn't look like him._ Jin let out a long breath. His face was shorter, his jaw slightly more square. If anything, he looked more like his mother. Jin frowned, drawing the picture close to her eyes. She thought that she'd seen that face before, somewhere. Probably on Zuko. Eventually, she replaced the picture and the heart-shaped rock, and pressed down the false bottom of the little box. Jin put everything back, the odds and ends in Zuko's plain box, the blankets, the jars of tea and spices, the clothes, the books. It took nearly ten minutes. Finally, Jin slid the brass latch back into place, and settled back on her haunches with a sigh.

Right, bed. She rubbed at her eyes, and straightened slowly, pushing at the kink in her back. She pushed the trunk up against the wall. Jin couldn't be bothered hanging up her clothes, so she let them puddle on the floor as she pulled them off, and flopped onto the mattress in her underwear. The day was growing hot, and she couldn't sleep without a blanket. Jin settled down with the blanket at her waist and stared at the patch of clear blue sky, thinking.

They looked so happy. Even with those horrible eyes. And _young._ How old were they when Zuko was born? Seventeen, eighteen? She knew that they married off girls in the upper classes pretty young, but usually the men were older. Perhaps it was different with princes. But the Earth King wasn't even married yet, just promised to a noblewoman down south who was due to come up for the wedding in Summer.

Like _that_ was going to happen. Jin snorted. Now the city was taken, it would probably be broken off. Who would want to marry a Royal with no kingdom?

_Well I..._ Jin could feel her cheeks growing hot. _No. I'm being presumptuous. We're just kids ourselves._

_And so were they._ She closed her eyes, mind growing fuzzy. _But I bet it wasn't by choice. Never is up there. That's something we got over those snooty bastards._

_Then again, a lot of the time, it's hardly a choice for us either._

* * *

"Hey." Zuko was a little surprised to find the door already unlocked. Meng was halfway through a game of weqi with a boy his own age, a stranger to him. Meng looked up from the board and nodded a greeting to Zuko, a little taken aback by the fifty pounds of rice slung over his shoulder.

"Oh, hey Lee. This is Dai Shi. Lee, Dai Shi, Dai Shi, Lee." They both nodded, Zuko standing somewhat awkwardly, the weight of the rice hurting his shoulder. "I didn't know today was gonna be rice day." Meng said quietly, feeling stupid and guilty. "I should have helped you."

"Don't worry about it." Zuko groaned as he let it fall to floor with a thump. "No offense, but you're not exactly strong at the moment. You'd probably break your back."

"Two of us with busted backs, just what Ma needs. True." Meng's eyes widened as he finally realised the lemur squirming a little in his youngest brothers' arms. "The heck? Chang, where did you get that?"

"I bought it." Zuko dragged the rice over by the cupboards and the warped benchtop where a very limp, empty sack lay crumpled in the corner.

"Why?" Chang leaned against the door to close it and stood still, unsure of what to do. "The landlord doesn't allow pets."

"The landlord can deal with it." Zuko said flippantly, approaching Chang. "I know who it belo- _Ow!_" Momo bit him in the hand as he tried to reach for the chain clasped around his angle, hissing. "Dammit Momo." Zuko shook his hand, wincing.

"Why doesn't he like you?" Chang reared back slightly, afraid of getting scratched or bitten. "I thought you said it was a friends."

"I may have been exaggerating." Zuko muttered. "I can't get that thing off him if he won't let me near it. Meng, can you..."

"Haha, no." Meng snorted. "Sorry Lee, but I'm not going near that flea-ridden thing. I'm not getting a lemur bite. Wake Jin up and make her do it."

"Is Jin here?" He sounded a little overeager. Meng suppressed a smile.

"In her room, sleeping off work. She's been dozing for ages now, so go get her up or she'll never get any sleep tonight." Meng turned his gaze back to the weqi board, frowning. "Oi! Dai Shi, put that _back_." He had cheated, moving one of the pieces while Meng was distracted. Their playful bickering faded to a murmur as Zuko turned into the hallway, making his way along the dingy little passage and into Jin's room.

She was still asleep. Lying on her side with her arms stretched across the pillow and legs splayed out all over the mattress, the blanket a munched mess at the foot of the bed. The patch of sunlight had worked its way across the room, now illuminating her torso. Zuko let out a strangled noise in his throat as he closed the door, face going very red. She was wearing almost _nothing_, not even the thin little underdress that struggled to cover her thighs. He should have looked away. _Why wasn't he looking away?_ Instead, he took another step towards her, hands trembling. And another. And another. He'd never seen so much of a woman before, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from her breasts, her thighs, her stomach. His stomach felt as though it had melted. As he approached the bed, Zuko sank to his knees, his legs turning to jelly. Agni, she was beautiful. He didn't even realise that his hand had moved until he felt the warmth of the sun in his fingers. Zuko rested his fingers on her skin with a feather-light softness, his breath seizing in his throat. Slowly, he flattened his palm against her, and ran his hand over the curve of her body, along her thigh and into the soft arch of her stomach. Her skin wasn't as silken as he expected – he could feel the slightest fuzz of hair underneath his fingertips. _He was having the most disgusting thoughts._ He wants to pull of what remained of her clothes and... Zuko shuddered. It was sick. How could he want to do that to her, even for just a moment? Zuko's hand trailed up her side until he brushed her shoulder. Jin groaned at the touch, her eyelids flickering. He let out a little strangled cry in his throat as she sleepily rubbed at one of her eyes.

"Hi." Zuko murmured lamely, snatching his hands away and burying them in his sleeves. "Um... Sleep well?"

"Mmmm." Jin's eyes hadn't yet cracked open. She extended an arm blindly, fumbling around until she caught Zuko's wrist. She squeezed it affectionately, and finally opened her eyes. "What's up?"

"Um, not much." Zuko looked determinedly down at his knees. He wasn't going to ogle her, not while she was awake. "Just helped your Mum with some stuff at the market."

"Aw, aren't you sweet." Jin yawned and sat up slowly. Zuko lifted his eyes in time to see her arch her back in a magnificent stretch, her chest thrust out and back arched. He dropped his gaze almost immediately, face flushing. "Pass me my dress." Zuko mumbled and nodded in assent, fishing it out from the mass of drab cloth puddle on the floor. Jin stood up to pull it on, pausing to kiss Zuko on the top of his head, and inadvertently pushing her breasts in his face. Zuko screwed his eyes closed and held his breath, feeling light-headed.

"You okay honey?" Jin pulled on her underdress and wandered across the tiny room to put on her good clothes. Zuko coughed and nodded silently, trying to clear his whirling head. "Come on, what's wrong?"

"I just..." Zuko's tongue felt clumsy, and too large. "I'm fine." He didn't want to verbalise his thoughts. She didn't need to know of his sickening desire to violate her. He looked up, and forced a smile. "Just brooding. Anyways, I came and woke you up for a reason. You have to help me. I found Aang's lemur at the market and I ha-"

"You _what_?" Jin's eyes widened. "How? What is he doing here? Why didn't they take him?"

"I'm assuming he was left behind." Zuko sighed. "They were really caught up in the heat of the moment, Momo would have been the last thing on their minds. It's not that he's here that I'm worried about, it's that... He kind of knows who I am, if that makes sense. And he won't let me near him, but he's looking pretty bad."

"Ooohhh." Jin nodded. "Okay, I get it. And my brother is being lazy and won't lift a finger to help?" Zuko shrugged. "Ha. Sounds like him. 'Course I'll help." She left the skylight open, pushing at the door. "Where exactly did you find him?"

"One of the marketplaces." Zuko followed her into the living room. "Some beggar managed to get hold of him but I bought him off with my leftover wages." Jin had to smile as she saw Chang holding the lemur somewhat gingerly, arms outstretched.

"It won't bite you, Chang." She said, taking a few steps towards Momo. "Hey there little fella. You don't look so good, do you? Come here, we'll get you cleaned up." She took Momo off her brother's hands, cradling the lemur as one would a child. "Lee, can you get me a bowl of hot water with vinegar? Chang, find me some rags." She knelt down at the table. "Meng, find me some nuts or seeds or something that he can eat." With a sigh, Meng stood up, knees creaking. "Let's have a look at you..." Placated by the soft, feminine voice, Momo didn't scatter about when Jin set him down on the table, looking first at his ankle. "Okay, let's see... This lock doesn't look hard." One hand went to her hair and she extracted a pin. Inconspicuously heating up the water over the stove, Zuko watched as Jin used poked and prodded the lock with her hairpin. "Dai Shi... The pincushion over there... Chuck me the darning needle." She put it between her teeth, taking a few moments to scratch Momo behind the ears. Meng set a half-filled jar of chestnuts on the table and returned to his game, scratching his chin in thought. "There we go Momo." He reached for them greedily, cramming them in his mouth two at a time. While he was distracted, Jin manipulated the lock with her makeshift tools, and with a clunk, the manacle fell heavily on the table.

"Where did you learn to do that?" Zuko set the steaming bowl of vinegary water down before Jin, and stepped well back.

"Lock-picking? Meng taught me." She gave her older brother a nod. "It's not hard, with small locks like that, especially. The key would only have a couple of teeth." Jin took one of the scraps of cloth, steeping it in the hot water. "Do you know what you're going to do with him yet, Lee?"

"No." Zuko shook his head, arms crossed. "But I know you're not allowed pets."

"It's not like the landlord does an inspection." Jin explained. "It's just that we can't really afford to feed another mouth if we can help it, especially an animal. If you explain to Ma and Dad that it's the Avatar's lemur and you'll feed it, then I think they'll be all right with it."

"Wait, what?" Meng blinked. "The _Avatar's _lemur? How the spirits do you know that? And why the heck would it be here and not with them?"

"I don't know." Zuko bit his lip. "I've seen it before, and it responds to the name Momo, so it's got to be theirs. I guess in the middle of everything, they forgot about him. And anyway, what were they meant to do? They fled for their lives." _And left us... Not that I didn't deserve it. _"They couldn't stop and search the city for him."

"It makes sense, I g-_ow!"_ Jin yelped as the vinegar came into contact with her wounded hand, and gritted her teeth, trying to tough out the pain. "Owwwwwww..." She shook her hand, blinking back tears. "Oh crap, that _hurts_!"

"Are you okay?" Zuko made to move towards her, but stopped, realising that he had to be careful with his movements around Momo.

"I'll be fine." Jin shook her hand, breathing through clenched teeth. "Just give me a second." She eventually returned to dabbing Momo's eye with the vinegar, holding the squealing lemur in place. "Um Lee, I think you're making him nervous." She looked apologetically at the teen, wincing. "It uh, might be best if you left."

"That's fine." Zuko nodded. "I was thinking that... At some point... I should probably go and speak to some friends of my Uncle."

"Will they be able to break him out?" Jin looked up from Momo. Her brow creased. Zuko gave a shrug.

"Hopefully." His voice was very small. "They'll have to do something... He can't stay where he is and I just feel so bad..."

"Lee, go talk to them." Jin said softly. "I'll look after Momo."

"You sure?"

"I suggested it, didn't I? Lee, it's killing you, I know it is. Go talk to them and see what's going on. They might have more information, too."

"All right." Zuko nodded slowly. "I won't be long."

"Take all the time you need. I know it's important to you." She gave him a smile. "Good luck."

"Thanks." He would have hugged or kissed her, but thought the better of it, owing to the lemur she was carefully dabbing at. He gave a goodbye to the others with a short nod, and slipped out of the apartment silently, trailing his fingers along the wall so he didn't stumble and fall in the darkness.

Zuko kept his eyes down and hands in his pockets as he made his way to the Dancing Monkey, doing his best to keep to side streets and away from any dodgy-looking people. He still wore his upper-ring clothes, which he intended to trade at some point, hopefully later on in the afternoon, for something a little more basic, knowing they simply made him a target, giving the illusion of wealth that he simply didn't have. And the last thing he wanted was to be spotted by the Dai Li. As far as he could tell, walking down the narrow maze of streets, no one else yet knew about who really sat on the Earth Kings throne. They still talked and laughed, haggling cheerily over produce whilst endless throngs of children jostled about at his waist, screaming. _When is Azula going to announce things? Why hasn't she done anything yet? _Zuko chewed on his lower lip thoughtfully, one hand drifting subconsciously to the swords at his waist. _Maybe she's waiting for some physical forces. Troops and tanks and the like, so she can actually secure the city. Right now, Ba Sing Se could probably overpower the palace, if they were organized and informed enough. Who knows._

Zuko paused outside the building, the faded wooden sign of the monkey hanging above the door. Taking a breath, he first tried the door, but, finding it locked, knocked sharply on the panelling three times, held for two seconds, then knocked twice. He waited for a little more than a minute. Finally, Minsheng opened the door a crack, suspiciously. When his gaze caught the teenager, he froze, and after a moment of surprise, pulled open the door, wordlessly taking Zuko by the sleeve and yanking him inside.

"Why are you _here?"_ He hissed as he relocked the door, Zuko straightening his clothes somewhat sulkily. "The Avatar's bison was reported leaving the city yesterday!"

"Clearly, I wasn't on it." Zuko muttered, feeling somewhat petulant at the way he was being spoken to.

"And why... Spirits this is a mess." Minsheng took Zuko's arm, marching him through the higgledy-piggeldy of tables and chairs, behind the bar, stacked high with glasses and cups he was in the midst of wiping, through a back door into a store room, piled nearly to the low ceiling with crates of alcohol. Minsheng brought Zuko round to the back corner, taking the metal crowbar which had seemingly been thrown thoughtlessly on the floor and wedging it in the joint of the wall, which began to roll aside with a low squeak.

"Good disguise." Zuko remarked as the sliding door was opened wide enough to receive the pair. It came out more sarcastic than he liked, causing him to wince. "Really though, it is." Minsheng gave a sound of annoyance in the base of his throat, pushing Zuko into the blackness. Instinctively, he summoned a small flame in his hand, looking confused. The steps didn't do down into some sort of basement, as he suspected, but upwards. "Why not underground?" He enquired aloud as Minsheng began to march up the stairs.

"Underground, you're surrounded by rock." Minsheng explained. "It makes the Dai Li much easier to find you, because they can trace your vibrations through the earth. That, and it's damn dark and cold. This is just another apartment that you can find in the second and third floors of the building, but it can't be accessed any other route, it's completely walled off. From the outside it looks like just another room. And there's twenty-eight apartments across four floors in this tiny building, so it's not as though they can count the rooms. It's much more secret and undetectable than any basement hideout."

"That's... ingenious." Zuko murmured as he followed the man up the second flight of stairs.

"Trial and error." Minsheng ran his hand along the wall. "A _lot_ of trial and error. The Dai Li like to think that they've stopped all secret meetings, but the White Lotus has always remained two steps ahead."

"No one ever specified how big this thing goes." Zuko stared into the tiny flame crackling in his hand. "How many members are there, exactly?"

"No one knows," was his response. "No one person knows the identity of all its members, not even your Uncle. And it's not as though there is a register of all names. Far too dangerous. My brother and I take care of business inside Ba Sing Se, and we couldn't name twenty of our own fellow members. And that's how we like it."

"I guess." Zuko murmured. "Then how come you're taking me up here? Last time Uncle spoke with the White Lotus, I wasn't allowed in."

"This isn't White Lotus business." Minsheng turned onto the last flight of stairs. "This concerns every soul in the city. That and your Uncle trusts you. He holds you in his highest regard, you know."

"Great." Zuko groaned, his chest burning with a fresh surge of guilt. "That's... That's just great." He watched as Minsheng turned the key in the low door, the narrow hallway erupting in light as the little apartment was exposed. Zuko stepped inside carefully as he extinguished the small flame, blinking as his eyes struggled to adjust to the light.

"Look what the cat dragged in." Jing looked up from his desk in the corner of the little room, finding Zuko in the doorway. "What is he doing here Minsheng?" A tall figure, delicately sipping a cup of tea at the table, looked at the teen in confusion.

"That's what I intend to find out." He guided Zuko to the low table. "What do you take?"

"Anything that's not Jasmine." Zuko responded quickly, taking the swords from his waist before he sat down. Minsheng raised an eyebrow at the request, knowing the Jasmine was Iroh's favourite brew, but said nothing. Kuei, sitting opposite the former Prince at the square table, set down his half-filled up with a frown.

"Minsheng, who..."

"Oh, yes." The man carried the steaming post of tea from the stove, setting it before Zuko, the cup dangling from the spout. "Your Majesty, this is Prince Zuko. He's Firelord Ozai's only son, who turned traitor during the winter after killing Admiral Zhao. He and General Iroh are allies of the Avatar. Zuko, this is Kuei, the Earth King." Minsheng dispensed with the introductions in a hurry, taking his seat at the table quietly. Jing get up from his desk and followed suit, taking the fourth seat, so they formed a little ring of conspirators and collaborators at the square table.

"Pleasure to finally meet you." Zuko said warmly, extending his hand across the table to an ashen-faced Kuei. The young King did not return the favour, looking at Zuko as though he were a snake. Zuko merely sighed, and retreated, pouring out his oolong tea. "You've got a problem with me." He murmured bluntly before taking a tentative sip.

"Y-Your sister-"

"Is a psychotic monster and I haven't had anything to do with her for years." He cut over Kuei rapidly. "I was there, I know what she did. For Agni's sake, she killed Aang." Zuko set down his teacup, aware that everyone else in the room was in a state of silenced shock, three sets of wide eyes focused on him intently.

"What?" Kuei was trembling. "What do you mean killed, I don't..."

"He took a bolt of lightning to the chest." Zuko recited in a bland monotone. "Azula took him to be a goner and left him to die, but Katara managed to stop the worst with her healing. When they left me though, Aang was bad. Some organs burnt out, bleeding all over the place, irregular heartbeat... If he's still alive, it's a miracle." He took another sip of his tea, his shaking hand evident. "I thought someone would have told you by now. Haven't you heard anything?"

"Not from the palace." Jing said faintly, head in his hands. "Azula has that place locked up tight. Everything we know we heard from His Majesty. And the sighting of the bison."

"Damn." Zuko muttered. He didn't want to be the one to have to say anything, but what other option was there? "Well... I spose I better tell you what happened in more detail."

"A good idea." Minsheng agreed, casting a concerned look Kuei's way. At the news of Aang's injury and likely death, he sunk into a pale silence, looking glazed and hopeless. Zuko gave the young King a look of pity. He knew better than anyone, _anyone,_ the pain Kuei was experiencing, having his throne seized from under him, sent into shameful exile.

"Well... It actually started two nights ago." Zuko started, pouring himself another cup of oolong. It wasn't as bad as he thought it would be, having some apprehension towards the often bitter tea. "When this uh, girl I've been seeing told me about her brother..."

* * *

"Azula?"

The timid voice in the doorway sent the Princess' heart racing. Her heart skipped a little, but she kept her face impassive as she turned away from the arched window, raising one eyebrow to indicate she had heard Ty Lee.

Azula was jumpy. Ty Lee saw it in an instant, noticed how her shoulders scrunched up for a second as she jumped, and her hands, folded neatly behind her back, clenched into fists. Azula, although highly skilled in the art of composure, had her tells and Ty Lee knew them all.

"I was wondering about the Earth King's bear..." The younger girl ventured as she walked into the airy room, furnished very sparsely with a few sticks of carved wooden furniture, and two large tapestries hanging on the walls. Ty Lee thought that Azula had been staring out the window, but she saw the large wall-mirror positioned against the left wall, and realised that the Princess had been sneaking cautious side-glances of herself, examining out of the corner of her eye her posture, her poise, and how she held her head. She was trying to do it now, her eyes sliding to her right, neck turned in an almost indiscriminate angle. This was bad. Something in Ty Lee's stomach turned. Azula wasn't vain – well, she _was,_ but she wasn't the type to spend hours flattering herself in a looking-glass. She was checking up on herself, to make sure that she appeared in an outward state of calm and grace.

"What about it?" She'd been scared by something. It took a few seconds for Azula to answer, and her eyes seemed to be glazing over. She wasn't focusing on Ty Lee, she was less alert than usual. This was not good. Ty Lee turned and swing the heavy door closed, brass hinges creaking.

"Forget it." Ty Lee made sure the door was firmly shut before approaching the other girl. "Azula, what's wrong?"

"I don't know what you mea-"

"Something's up." She cut over Azula without a thought, and in shock, clapped a hand over her mouth. She'd never done something so disrespectful before. Azula had also been perturbed by the thoughtless, momentary lapse, her eyes widening. "Sorry." Ty Lee declined her head and shoulders in a slow bow. "I don't know what came over me..."

"I sent a letter to Father." Azula's voice was very quiet. The hairs on the back of Ty Lee's neck stood on end. A cold prickle trailed up her spine. _She sounded so scared_. "Informing him of our victory over the Earth King."

"Excellent." Ty Lee beamed. Azula nodded, eyes lowering down to the ground. Her shoulders sank a lot, and there was an odd stoop to her neck. Around Ty Lee, she didn't bother to maintain her perfect posture.

"I explained that my uncle has been arrested and captured, and will return with us to the Homeland." Azula's breathing was slow and even. "That Zuko has defected completely, and joined the Avatars allies... and that the Avatar himself is dead."

"He'll be so happy to hear that all!" Ty Lee was smiling, trying to cheer Azula up. "What's wrong with that, you've done everything your father instructed you to do!"

"... I'm not sure." Azula finally admitted. Behind her back, her nails dug into her palms. "My brother... He said that the Avatar was alive, that they saved him in time..."

"How?" Ty Lee frowned, finally recalling what Zuko had said. "He had to be bluffing Azula. I mean, lightning to the chest? No one can survive that." She added, trying to boost Azula's morale. "Even... Even if he somehow, miraculously, was revived, I don't think he could stay alive. He looked really bad, Azula. There was blood _everywhere_." And the smell of burned flesh. Ty Lee had never smelled it before, and even remembering the rancid stink made her skin crawl. She was trying to block it out, the image of the dying child and blood and the smell. In the pit of her stomach, it just didn't sit right with her. Wasn't there some other way to take care of him?

"Yes. I suppose." Azula only sounded half-convinced. "But Ty Lee... Speak of this to no one. I was too rash when dictating the letter... The scribe asked what I should write about the Avatar and I panicked and snapped he was dead. I was furious at the stupid mans' insolence and when I recollected myself, the message had already been sent."

"Oh." Ty Lee didn't know what to say. She had never heard of Azula losing control in such a way. She didn't fully realize, however, how tightly the Avatar tied in with Azula. She _had_ to succeed where her brother had failed, she had to prove herself to Ozai or else he would think her no better than Zuko. Perhaps Azula could have gotten together a small army after overseeing the complete invasion of Ba Sing Se, hunted the Avatar down, and killed him, or at least, made sure he was truly dead, but now the message had been sent, Azula was bound. "But... They said his heart stopped didn't they? He was bluffing. Or Lying."

"Trying to get a rise out of me." Azula turned away from Ty Lee, and faced the mirror. "If he was attempting to trick me, it was a pathetic attempt. But then." Her lip curled. "Everything he does is pathetic. That peasant girl!" She let a small snort of laughter pass through her lips. "Pathetic." Azula repeated, hammering the idea home in her mind.

"Exactly." Ty Lee blindly agreed with Azula, as she always would. Sometimes, her approval seemed cheap in its consistency, but here, Azula appreciated it. "Don't let him, or the Avatar get you down. Look at what you've done! We've tried for a hundred years to conquer the city, and thrown countless lives and resources at it, and you managed to overthrow everything with no cost! Your father is going to be so proud of you, Azula."

"I hope so." Azula was staring intently at her reflection. She raised her shoulders again, straightening her neck. "It doesn't take much to turn him against you." Ty Lee bit her lip. "Even a few words out of turn..." She shook her head. "Agni, he was stupid."

"I never thought he would turn out like this." Ty Lee said quietly. She knew who he was talking about. "He always did what he was told, kept his head down, stayed out of the way..."

"Of course he did, Father scared him stiff." Azula muttered. "He cracked. He slipped up. And he paid for it." She swallowed. Her ribs still hurt from the day before, and when she took a deep breath, a fresh stab of pain would plough into her side. They were broken, she would have to get them looked at by a doctor. _Damn that stupid peasant. _

"What was it you wanted, anyways?" Azula raised her voice, the finality in her tone indicating that the previous conversation was now over. For the moment, it had been swept under the rug, an ugly paranoia of the Avatar escape from the jaws of death prodding dangerously at the back of her mind. "Something about the Bear?"

"Oh, yes!" Ty Lee clapped her hands, remembering. "Well, it belonged to the Earth King and he's missing and I know all about platypus-bears from the circus and I was just wondering if-"

"You can have it?" Azula cut over her. It was well within _her_ rights. Ty Lee faltered, and nodded earnestly. "Sure. Spoils of war, you're perfectly entitled. I've heard it's hideously rare, but it won't interest Father, he doesn't enjoy animals. Just keep the thing away from me and it's all yours."

"Thank you!" Ty Lee looked as though she were going to hug Azula, but thought the better for it, judging from her current mood. Instead, she took her leave with a low bow, and left the door open behind her, her cheery humming slowly drifting along the vaulted hallway.

Azula sighed deeply, and approached the mirror. She stared at herself, all in green, her hair done up simply and without any armour. She missed her scarlet and black robes, her headdress and her gold-edged armour and even her boots. Her eyes flickered down to her flat green shoes, lip curling in distaste.

_It doesn't take much to turn him against you._ Azula's forehead felt hot as she recalled her previous words. She pressed her face against the glass, feeling a little relieved. It was very cool to the touch, almost soothing. _I just need to keep a lid on this. Root out those damn peasant siblings and the blind freak and get rid of them. Quietly._ She cursed herself for her moment of weakness, swearing at the pig-headed scribe and marching off without eloquently rounding off the letter. The stupid Earth-Kingdom scum – but he paid dearly for his impertinence. Even so, she would get Ty Lee to transcribe her letters from now on.

Breathe in, breathe out, keep your posture straight and chin up and never give anything away in your face. Azula ticked the instructions off in her head. Everything would be fine. She could easily take care of this.

* * *

"All right." Minsheng took the sketch Kuei had drawn of the Palace, tapping the pencil stub against his chin in thought. All four leaned over the table, staring at the diagram which Minsheng laid out in the middle, pushing the tea things aside. "So you think that General Iroh would be hidden here?" He made a mark on the page. Kuei nodded. "Okay. And this is thick stone, no one can get in without earth bending. The problem is the Dai Li. This place is going to be guarded like nothing else. No one will be allowed in or out. In fact, we would have better luck arranging a disguise than breaking in, but that would be impossible. The Dai Li all know one another by face."

"How about some sort of underground assault, through the sewers?" Zuko suggested. He took the pencil and drew in a few guidelines, marking in the systematic manhole entrances. "We can sneak in undetected and then avoid a confrontation."

"How?" Jing argued. "The cells are made of metal. That whole wing is metal-plated, specifically to avoid any possible breaking in or out from earth benders. And apart from what you said about that Toph girl, I've never heard of anyone bending metal."

"Well... Okay... How many would it take to overpower the Dai Li? How many contractors could you afford?"

"Not enough." Minsheng sighed. "Nowhere near enough. You know what the premiums would be for a job like this? If it's caught, it's torture then death. It would be compare able to a years' wages for a line worker."

"Volunteers?"

"Ha." Jing shook his head. "For a Fire Nation general? In Ba Sing Se? No. And the members of the White Lotus, at least, those we know of, are not exactly in the fighting condition. You need the strength and reflexes of the young to overcome the Dai Li. And an earth bending ability that outstrips theirs, which doesn't exist."

"Well..." Zuko looked frantically at the drawing. "What about some kind of diversion? I could cause a really big distraction, down at one end of the palace, which would give a few others enough time to break out my Uncle."

"You would be captured." Minsheng said flatly. "And then sent back to the Fire Nation and face a traitors' death."

"Well, I-I don't care!" Zuko's voice caught. "I-I would rather be captured if it means that he's free!"

"Zuko, you don't mean th-"

"Yes, I do!" His head sank into violently trembling hands. "I do mean it. He's the one that deserves to be free. Not I. He's the one that always did the right thing and kept true and I am the one that made mistake after mistake. I'm still making them! The world would be better off with him and not me."

"Zuko." Minsheng spoke firmly and solemnly. "I am not going to allow you to try and trade yourself off for your Uncle. For one, do you think it would be something that he would condone? After everything he said?" Zuko was staring at the tabletop with his head in his hands, silent. "Also, you're damn important in this war and you know it. The effort that your father is going through to make sure you're captured proves it. Did you know your reward went up?"

"No." Zuko muttered. "What's it at now? Was at two hundred pounds, I remember."

"Three tons." Zuko's head jerked upwards, mouth falling open. "Yep, three tons of gold, dead or alive. He knows what a danger you are. Don't even think of throwing yourself away. We'll take care of General Iroh, when the time is right. Do you think we would let someone as important as him face execution?"

"I don't think he would be executed soon." Zuko murmured. "Dad would kill me first. In front of him. Slowly."

"Not even Ozai w-"

"Would do something that twisted?" Zuko shook his head. "Oh, he would. _Trust_ me. I've seen first-hand what he does with people that threaten him. He _made_ me watch, said I had to do the same thing if I wanted to rule the country some day."

"Even so," Minsheng was thoughtful. "It's going to be very, very hard to free him while he's under the eye of Azula. No one would have a chance against her. But his prison in the Fire Nation is going to be maximum security..." He sighed. "It's tough."

"I could-"

"_You_ will do nothing." Minsheng said very firmly. "We have a contact in the palace. We'll get her to find out what General Iroh thinks. This doesn't concern you, Zuko."

"What are you talking about?" Zuko cried. "This concerns me than anyone! He's my Uncle, not yours! It's my fault he's there, I was the one that lied to him."

"Zuko, we can handle it." Minsheng's eyes flashed. "Please, calm yourself. You need to keep your head down and out of trouble. Transport for the Earth King will be here in a week, to take him to a hideout in the south. We can get you out too, easily."

"Wait." Kuei finally spoke up, his mouth set in a hard line. "I... I don't want to go to the South." Minsheng looked over at the young King in surprise. "I-I want to stay here. In Ba Sing Se."

"With all due respect, your Majesty, in the interests of your own safety-"

"Oh, hang my own safety!" Kuei broke in over the other man. "This is where I belong, where I should be! Amongst my own people, not hiding out in some estate! Especially after everything you're saying about what will happen... I cannot and will not abandon my subjects when they need me most." Kuei rested his hands on the table, his long fingers trembling. "I-I'm staying here. In the city."

"You... You do realise that you'll have to stay in the Lower Ring, don't you?" Jing pointed out. "You'll have to live like a peasant."

"I-I know." Kuei nodded. "And I'm... prepared to do that. I don't want to be bundled off and sent away where I'm no good to anyone." He took in a deep breath. "I had no idea that conditions were so bad in the Lower Ring. No one ever told me. Worse, I never even _asked_. I'm not going to ignore my own people any more. I _can't._"

"How perfectly noble of you." Zuko muttered. Kuei shot him a glare, thinking that he was being sarcastic. "No, really." Zuko leaned forward on the table. "Staying here rather than hiding out a nobleman's country estate. That's integrity."

"It's stupid." Minsheng stated flatly. "Zuko, don't encourage him. It's not going to happen."

"Excuse me?" Kuei's voice rose. "_I_ am the King, not you! You can plan an escape if you want, but I am staying here with my people and nothing is going to change my mind. Nothing."

"... Fine." Minsheng stared at the both of them. "You two are insufferable. Both of you think you know best, refuse to listen to reason, and then dangle royal authority before you. You know that, right?"

"You say that like my father hasn't ever done it before." Zuko muttered. He was sick of talking. "So you're not going to do anything about my Uncle?"

"I never said that, I just said that we have to give it some time and wait to see if-"

"Right then." Zuko stood up, turning away from the others.

"Zuko!" Minsheng darted and grabbed at his elbow before he could walk away. He pulled Zuko back to face him, looking the Prince in the eye. "Don't go near the palace. Please."

"I'm not letting my Uncle down again." Zuko's voice was low. "He needs my help and I-"

"No, he _doesn't._" The elder man was becoming increasingly exasperated. "I am _begging_ you, keep your head down and stay _out_ of this! You're more important than-"

"Than what?" Zuko yanked his elbow free.

"Look." Minsheng rubbed his temples, trying a different tack. "Your Uncle doesn't want you trying to fight off your sister and father alone."

"I know." Zuko crossed his arms. "I know he wanted me to change sides the whole time, I'm not an idiot." He didn't mention that it was Jin who told him this. "But I've burned my bridges there. They're never going to let me join their side, no matter how changed I am."

"Zuko, you know who General Iroh wants on that throne?" Minsheng rested his hands on his hips. Zuko shook his head. "_You._"

"That's not-"

"Oh yes it is. Everything he has done these past few years is to try and get you there." Zuko's mouth was dry. "You can't honestly be surprised by this."

"He said I would never be Fire Lord." Zuko's voice was almost hoarse.

"I guess because you seem to be more motivated when someone tells you no." He turned away, and picked up the drawing of the palace, scanning it one more time. "The worst thing you can do is let yourself fall into the wrong hands, Zuko."

"But I lied to him." He was so overwhelmed, tears pushed at his eyes. "I can't just let him think that-"

"Write him a letter." Minsheng took his sleeve and led him to the desk. "Keep it short. I'll code it and get it to him."

"Really?" Minsheng nodded as he pushed Zuko down into the chair. He was willing to do anything to keep Zuko away from the palace at this point. He'd said a lot more than he should have, too. Or at least Iroh would see it that way. Personally, he didn't understand why they had to keep everything so quiet. It was Zuko's life and future they conspired about, why wasn't he to know? Maybe if he knew what Iroh had planned for him he wouldn't be so pigheaded and willing to throw himself away.

Zuko's writing was jumbled and messy, filled with spelling mistakes. It laced his fluid penmanship, and he crossed out several lines and rewrote them, trying to word his thoughts clearly. He'd written a long paragraph detailing his thoughts, cramming in the last few lines to fit it on the page. While he wrote, Jing and his brother spoke quietly over a scribbled piece of paper, and Kuei sipped his tea, mind whirling.

Finally, Zuko pulled the stub of pencil away and turned towards the table, extending his hand. Minsheng took one look at it and shook his head.

"What?"

"Too long." He said briskly. "I said _short._ Three sentences at the most. It's got to go in on a tiny scrap of paper. I can't smuggle in a novel like that."

"But I can't say everything in three sentences!" Zuko exclaimed. Minsheng shrugged. "That's not fair!"

"Oh, I never said it was." He spoke mildly. It was difficult to _not_ treat him like a child at times. He had to remind himself that Zuko was only sixteen. Zuko scowled and tore the paper in half. He found another scrap, and sat with his pencil poised over the surface for a long time before writing.

_Uncle._

_I'm so very sorry. Nothing justifies what I did. You were always right. I'll fight my father in your name until you're free. I love you._

_Until we meet again,  
Zuko._

There was so much more he wanted to say. He wanted to babble on for pages about how he saw the light and how he would do anything to free him. How he wanted to fight for the Earth Kingdom and join the Avatar and lead them all to victory against his father, and how he knew that Iroh had plans for him and he understood now what that meant. How he had matured so much over the past two days and he finally knew what really was right.

But he didn't need to, really. Zuko looked over his short letter, heart pounding. His Uncle would know all that gibberish when he read it.

It was all there, between the lines.

* * *

A war meeting.

_He was in a war meeting._

Sokka kept his hands clenched beneath the table so no one would see their shaking, his knees locked together. He was rigid as a board, stiff and tense with anticipation. The warriors of their tribe didn't like the long, rectangular table that was conventional in Fire Nation war ships, but they made do, three men sitting cross-legged on the table near the far end to bring in the space. Hadoka sat at the head, staring at the map whilst chewing on a thumbnail. Sokka sat at his right hand silently, unsure of what to say, if he could say anything. Was it his place to be silent? Did they want to listen to his ideas? Did he even have anything constructive to add?

"It comes down to whether or not we abandon Sokka's plan and return home, or push on through in the hopes that the Avatar recovers." Bato's voice sounded out above the concerned babble.

"We shouldn't abandon the invasion plan so quickly." Tonrak, a man five years older than Sokka and still filled with the energy and optimism of youth, spoke up. "For eight minutes, the Fire Nation will be entirely defenceless. Even their machinery will be ineffective, the ammunition is powered by their bending. How can we turn that down?"

"It is tempting." Hakoda admitted, straightening up and raising his eyes to his men. "But we have to be pragmatic. We no longer have the backing of the Earth Kingdom. The few remaining allies of the Avatar may not wish to support us if he's not there."

"They will." Sokka spoke up. All the eyes in the room turned on him. "Um," He coughed, and cleared his throat, very conscious of the collective gaze. "I know them all, too. So does Katara. They'll fight, if we ask them too. I think what they need is the opportunity to be gathered together."

"But will it be enough?" Hakoda frowned. He hated being realistic. In his heart, he shared Tonrak's view. "They may have the heart, but do they have the strength? We may have an eight minute window where they're powerless, but we have to think about the hours before and after."

"If it's planned well enough, we could do it." Sokka said confidently. "I mean..." He bent down and rifled in his backpack, looking for his maps. He found the one of the main island, detailing the Palace city and the capital, and spread it out on the surface. His hands were slick. "Apparently the whole bay can be protected by the Gates of Azulon, and no ship can pass." He traced an invisible line across the blue space.

"Helpful." Bato muttered.

"I've sent plans to the Mechanist in the Northern Air Temple." Sokka ignored him. "I'm not sure if I told you, but he and I invented the War Balloon a few months ago."

"Wait, _you_ invented it?" Tonrak burst in. "Then why did we see one with the Fire Nation insignia flying last week?"

"It was captured." Sokka looked down, with a little shrug. "We were really outnumbered. Don't think I'm not kicking myself over it. Point is, he's a really really good inventor, and I've sent him some plans for a couple of new crafts. One is a ship that is able to be completely submerged in water. That way, we can go underneath the gate, and break on the shore completely undetected."

"And when we get to the shore?" Hakoda sat up very straight, staring at Sokka keenly.

"The second invention is similar to the tanks that are used by the Fire Nation, except these ones are powered by earthbending." Sokka was getting into it, describing the crafts he had been so thoughtfully planning. He almost forgot that everyone was staring at him. "They're heavily armoured, and are meant to withstand the bombs that the Fire Nation drops." Sokka explained.

"Do you think these will work?" Bato asked in a hushed tone. The rest of the men had fallen silent. Sokka's cheeks were growing uncomfortably pink with the attention paid on him.

"I trust the Mechanist." Sokka tried his best to sound confident. It wasn't his lack of faith in the eccentric inventor that put a quaver in his voice, it was the dozens of eyes focused on him, watching him, scrutinizing him. Now he had finished his little speech about the ships and was watching for a response, the nervousness came back.

"If you trust him, that's enough for me." Hakoda clapped his son on the shoulder. "If he can do what you say he can, then our technology could rival that of the Fire Nation. If the Avatar was healthy and we could scrape together enough people to man them, we could have chance." He bent over the map, looking deep in thought. That was a lot of 'ifs' "Two months is a long time, and a lot can happen."

"Do we really have any other option?" Bato murmured. "What else can we do, run away to the South Pole and hope that we might be ignored? They know where we are, and they've attacked us before." Hakoda tensed. "And they'll do it again. We'll be sitting ducks."

"We should take our wives and children, and migrate." Nanuk, grizzled and greying, spoke up. "Our sister tribe in the North withstood a siege of epic proportions in the winter. They are capable of defending themselves. We are not."

"It was Aang who saved the Northern tribe." Sokka spoke up, staring at the white mass of ice on the crown of the map. "He drove them back singlehandedly with the power of the Moon Spirit." His hands clenched tighter under the iron table, remembering. _Yue._ "But you're right." Sokka swallowed, raising his gaze. "They have a better chance than us, even though Pakku said he was going down south to rebuild." Hakoda's lip twitched in a tiny upwards smile at the name. He'd heard many stories about the arrogant warrior from his mother.

"We can't leave our home." Tonrak argued. "We've lived there forever. Our ancestors are buried in its waters. It's where we belong."

"If we wish to honour our ancestors, staying in a defenceless place and condemning ourselves to death is not the way to do it." Bato echoed his conversation with Hakoda from earlier in the day. "Providing a safe place for our children to grow into warriors and defend our name in the future is more important. If the Southern and the Northern tribes banded together, we could put up a defensive front that would withstand the comet." Bato's proposition of reuniting with their cherished families and providing them with comfort and safety, hung tantalizingly in the air. Most of the men quickly forgot about the invasion plan. "I want to go home... We _all_ want to go home. Maybe it's time to call it a day and say we've done the best we can do." The room lapsed into silence, and everyone turned to Hakoda, the decision-maker, the chief.

"Give it two weeks." After almost a minute of silent deliberation, Hakoda spoke with a note of finality. "We'll know more about the Avatar's condition then. If my daughter believes he'll be fit and ready, then we'll continue with the invasion as planned."

"And if he's not?" Sokka was very quiet. Hakoda leaned forward, biting once more on his thumbnail.

"Migration." He stood up, pushing back his chair. The meeting was finished. He knew how pained his men were. They were tired. Their wives were lonely, their children growing up. Perhaps it was time to admit defeat. Without the support of the Earth Kingdom, there was very little left they could do, save for sneak attacks at night on solitary war ships, as they had done just a few short hours ago. Maybe it _was_ time to be pragmatic, think of themselves, their home, and try to desperately protect what they had before it was too late.

He found his daughter in the large room which had once been reserved for the captain. She was sitting cross-legged on the bed beside Aang, reading aloud from a scroll she had found amongst the papers on his writing desk. Toph lay along the foot of the bed with her arms folded behind her head.

"How did it go?" She broke off from the report and looked up as he entered. Hakoda sighed as he closed the door. Katara set the writing down, something stirring in her stomach. He looked _aged._ What had happened? "Dad?"

"We're not as optimistic as we used to be." Hakoda sat down on the spindly chair before the desk, resting an elbow on the surface. "They're not enthusiastic about fighting on the day of the eclipse without Aang. They don't think we can do it. And Bato mentioned admitting defeat and going back home." Hakoda closed his eyes. _I told him to tell no one about what we had said... He did that because he knew everyone would agree with him._..

"You can't do that!" Katara cried, standing up off the bed. "Dad, you can't just give up hope because things are hard. Where would we if we all just called it quits because it got too difficult?"

"I know, I know." Hakoda sighed. "I was an idiot for suggesting it. But Bato was desperate. Everyone is. Aang might not make it, and it's hitting everyone really hard."

"You think it's not hitting _me_ hard?" Katara shot back, voice growing higher. "You have no _idea_ how much I care about him, Dad!"

"That's not fair." Hakoda said softly, trying to keep his cool. After all, he had two children. "Katara, please don't shout like this, the ship isn't exactly soundproof." He swallowed, and tented his fingers, trying to think. "I said that in two weeks, we would make our decision, based on your opinion of him."

"My opinion?" Katara sat back down on the bed. Hakoda nodded.

"If you believe that he can be fighting fit in two months, we'll go ahead. Otherwise, we're going to return to our tribe and escort the wives and children up to the North Pole."

"Gran-Gran won't like that." Katara looked up, eyes flashing. Hakoda gave an odd shrug.

"_I_ don't like it." He muttered. "But what can I say Katara? I have the two of you with me, I don't feel the same loss as the others. They want to see their wives and children again. What kind of Chief would I be if I said no?"

"One that cared about the fate of the world." Katara's eyes dropped down to her hands, her fingers twisting and turning.

"It's not that easy." Hakoda shuffled the papers around half-heartedly. "We've been fighting for so long, and we're not winning. And with the Earth Kingdom fallen and Aang in this state, they feel as though they're standing alone before the full might of the Fire Nation. And that's scary."

"They're not alone." Toph finally spoke up, her blind eyes fixed on the ceiling. "There are people everywhere who will fight to the death. A change at the top doesn't mean that the workers in the fields will feel any different. The bands of rebels throughout the woods are going to be more encouraged than ever. The Underground spreads throughout the country."

"What do you know about the Underground?" Katara turned to stare at Toph.

"Earth Rumble is hardly legal." Toph explained. "They pay massive brides to keep the authorities out of it. While I was fighting in it, I heard a few things." She shrugged, like it was normal. In regards to everything else she had done with the group over the past few months, it sort of was. "No names or locations or anything. Just a few snatches of conversation. I hear a lot of things with these ears."

"Who is going to gather all these scattered rebels together, though?" Hakoda spoke up, thinking.

"Us." Toph sat up, crossing her legs. "Why not us? We have a plan, which is better than anything else anyone has come up. We have enough friends out there to spread the message throughout the Earth Kingdom. Things would be a lot easier if we had the Earth King's army but we don't. But we have to deal with that and push on forward nevertheless."

"But if Aang's not better, we can't do anything." Katara mumbled. "You heard Dad. They're getting desperate to go home."

"You're the judge of that." Toph reminded her friend quietly. Hakoda was very still. That was true. "If you say he's ready to fight, they'll back him."

"I can't lie to them!" Katara was outraged. "I won't deceive my kinsmen!"

"Okay." Toph shrugged. "But trying to get enough rebels together without them is going to be much harder Katara. You know that. You both know that."

"I..." Katara shook her head. "I can't believe I'm even considering..."

"It's two weeks away." Hakoda stepped in tactfully. "Anything can happen by then. There's no point in speculating about it now, you'll just make yourself paranoid with crazy theories and put ideas in your head." _It's already happened... But what can I expect? For all the conventions of heroism and being a warrior, we're still all only human._ He stood up, pushing the chair back in. "It's late. None of us slept much last night. Get a good nights' rest, both of you." He approached Katara, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder in a brief hug. "Sleep well." He kissed the top of her head and left silently. Katara drew her knees up to her chest, looking very troubled.

"Why did you have to say that." Her voice was very, very small.

"Because unlike you, I'm not worried about making up a lie for the greater good." Toph rubbed at her aching eyes. "I'm gonna go get some shut-eye. You gonna stay in here?"

"Uh-huh." Katara leaned against the wall, kicking off her shoes. She watched Toph roll off the bed and into the floor. Her heart hurt. "I've been awful Toph."

"Nah." Toph shook her head. "You've been through the wringer. No one's gonna be feeling up to it after the past few days we've all had. And hey, I haven't been all sweetness either."

"I still can't believe I shouted at Sokka... And the whole thing with Zuko... I feel bad about that. I'm just so mad at him! But leaving him there with Jin... I know he deserved it but I still feel... guilty." Katara raked a hand through her hair.

"Then maybe he didn't deserve it." Toph was treading dangerous waters. Katara tensed, and her free hand curled into a first. "Look, I know you have beef with him, but that was pretty vicious. What happened Katara? It wasn't the attack, you were snapping at him long before that."

"He cost me Mum's necklace." Katara tried so hard to keep her composure, but she spilled over, her throat clenching as she tried to contain her sobs, vision blurring. "He took it and gave it to Azula... It's all I _had._" Toph heard the rustle of hair and clothing as she buried her head in her arms, and the harsh, gasping breath of someone trying very hard to refrain from sobbing. "I've got _nothing_ Toph!"

"Katara..." Toph stood awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of what to do. She used to be as sturdy and unmovable as a mountain, but now she was cracking up under the strain. It was disturbing. For all her trivial condescension to Katara at times, Toph relied quite a lot on her stubborn fussiness. She was more of a mother than own had ever been. To see her crumble was deeply unsettling. "Um..."

"It's all right." Katara held her breath for a moment, and tried to breathe slowly. "I'll be fine. Go get some sleep."

"You sure?"

"Yes. I just need some sleep. I'm being melodramatic." Toph nodded and wished her good night with a soft murmur, padding along the metal hallway quietly. Maybe Katara had forgotten that Toph could now 'see' on metal almost as well rock, or it hadn't occurred to her that by leaning against the wall the vibrations of her heartbeat reverberated throughout the room.

Katara was lying. But then again, Toph didn't even need to sense a rapid heartbeat to know that.

* * *

I hope you guys are happy with that. I can understand if you're not. I'm trying my best to keep the characters within their portrayal on the show but it's hard, especially with characters who had little screen time and we have no glimpse of their internal state of mind. And the situation is slightly different. Hope I didn't fail too hard.

Also I'm sorry about treating Katara like I did. Personally, I thought it wasn't a patch on how she's portrayed in the later half of season three, and I tried to illustrate how and why she was in that state of mind, but I wasn't overly successful. That's okay, I made a mistake and I'll try to move on with it.

I guess this is also the end of the first 'part'. After this, there will be a small time lapse, to give the characters some time for 'recovery' before shifting onto the next phase, the juicy bits that I've been wanting to write for nearly eighteen months. Exciting.


	23. Chapter 23

I wonder how many of you poor souls are sticking it out at this stage. If you'd given up, I don't blame you, honestly.

In my defence, I rewrote a lot of this, several times. I probably had about 18000 words of raw text all up, between all the chopping and changing. I'm trying my best to not make this something I cobble together in the first draft and slap up as soon as it's done.

Probably comes off as that though. Oh well. Disclaimer, etc.

* * *

"How's it going in there, Lee?"

Zuko looked up from the compartmented tray at the sound of his boss's voice, blinking as he was shaken out of his torpor.

"Almost done." Xi Quan sidled up to his new apprentice, looking over his shoulder at the half-formed block of tiles.

"Very good... They all look to be the right way around. Centred nicely. Not lopsided. Excellent, Lee. You've caught on very fast."

"Thank you, sir." Zuko murmured. Xi Quan straightened up, turning away.

"Good. Now, can I leave you alone for a short time? I ordered four reams of paper from Tin Yang and it was supposed to be here two days ago. I'll have to go and pester him. His factory is a short walk, I won't be very long. Just tidy up around the press if I'm not back when you've finished."

"That's fine." Zuko nodded. Xi Quan whistled to himself as he left the dimly-lit back room, closing the door behind him, leaving Zuko alone in the half-light. The teenager sighed as he lifted his head, looking around at the tall drawers housing thousands upon thousands of tiles in five carefully regulated sizes.

Zuko didn't think, even just a week ago, that he would be apprenticed to a master printer, resigning himself to eeking out a modest existence in the doomed city. But it was a sense of restlessness, and a desperate need to find some kind of purpose to fill the days that were otherwise absorbed in a tumultuous and excruciating self-examination, consistently ending with a resounding assurance of his own failure and shortcomings. Zuko was driven to work by both a desire to prove to himself that he could be good at _something_, and a more practical realisation that he had to provide some kind of contribution to the struggling family that had fed him, and found a place in their overcrowded apartment to rest his head. He purged his trunk of personal possessions, which Meng admitted to loading up and pilfering from his former home in the Upper Ring. The temptation of the empty apartment filled with expensive treasures was too much for the young man who had never known of luxury, although he took far more than Zuko had need for, who spread the furnishings around the household. The row of spices and tea leaves in their glass jars now rested on Shan's spice rack in her modest kitchen. He also gifted her the cutlery and tea set, and gave the books to Jin's father, who was surprisingly literate, and the games to Jin's young brothers. His finest set of robes he gave to Meng, which Jin cleverly lengthened. When he heard the girl murmur whilst sewing that he would probably try and visit his old flame, an Upper Ring girl, Zuko also gave him the tiny bejewelled bird as a possible present. He gave the other clothes to Jiro and kept the plainest robe for himself. The blankets and cushions were spread over Jin's bed, and she was more than happy to receive Iroh's old robes, on which she slowly worked, with the help of her mother, to turn into short summer dresses for herself. He gave away everything, except the plainest of the clothes, his own box of worthless trinkets with the concealed secret, and of course, the picture of his dead cousin.

But what good were silver spoons and gold-rimmed plates without food to eat them with? He wasn't going to depend on the struggling family more than he needed to, and his own promise to keep the lemur fed spurred his decision to find paid work. Minsheng offered to ask around the small handful of members he knew, but Zuko declined. He wasn't going to get any more handouts. He finally saw the sign in the window of the printing press after several long days of searching. Zuko wasn't stupid – it wasn't manual labour, and he would be hard pressed to find something that wasn't cleaning up after someone else. Xi Quan tested him, asking Zuko to read aloud from several sheets of paper that ranged from newspaper articles to long-worded and complicated government reports. Astounded at Zuko's level of literacy, the ageing man who no longer had the eyesight to rifle through the hundreds of drawers containing thousands upon thousands of characters stamped on metal tiles hired the boy on the spot. Zuko himself wasn't interested in what he was printing. The _concept, _however,interested him and he closely watched his new boss ink the carefully organized row of tiles and feed the paper through the machine. Printed books were not often found in his fathers' palace, the royal family preferring meticulously illuminated manuscripts that took thousands of hours to produce. _They_ were one of a kind. Zuko wasn't interested in the beautiful as much as he was the practical – and the large, iron machine cranked by Xi Quan's hand, churning out hundreds of pages of text per hour, now _that_ was interesting.

Zuko looked from the handwritten sheet, annotated heavily with notes on formatting, centring, and lettering size. It was a short one-page flyer that was going to be given out at a business dinner for a very famous lawyer in the Middle Ring in a weeks' time. Zuko wondered idly if the dinner would even go ahead – what if the city had been invaded by then? It had been a week already, and nothing had happened. No Fire Nation soldiers, no tanks or airships, and not even an announcement. But the whisperings were slowly crowing in volume as the news of Azula's successful coup filtered through the city, and everyone had noticed the disappearance of the Dai Li, who had abandoned their nighttime patrols and stopped arresting the citizens. Not everything was going quite as it had before, and the citizens of Ba Sing Se, despite their anxiety, openly embraced this new form of freedom, to the point of recklessness. New pubs sprung up, remaining open until the dawn. Nearly every night for the past week, Jin had persuaded Zuko to 'come out' with her friends, to a pub, a play, a late-night party at someone's house. He drank most nights, as everybody else in the group did, talking and laughing, making friends, and feeling relaxed and happy for hours. He woke up in the morning with a sore head and a bone-dry mouth, but as Jin said, it was an 'occupational hazard' (as though binge-drinking was some sort of compulsory obligation) and after a cup of what she called her special hangover brew, Zuko felt right as rain and more than ready for work. Refugees began to openly talk about their former homes and news of the War was discussed on the street. Jiro had already started up a political dissidence group, where a number of him and other young idealists met in full light and talked about the new possible forms of government. Zuko had gone along, and although he inwardly rejected most of the ideas debated by the other young men and women, he found a number of ideas – such as tax rate that adjusted for wealth, and a senate filled with elected officials and a leader chosen by the people - downright _intriguing_. They kept him up at night, and he fuzzily turned them over and over in his mind, debating within himself the possibility of all these radical ideas suggested by the uneducated but enthusiastic young men and women. Surely, they had been thought of before. They sounded new, but they took little effort to come up with. Someone must have tried to implement them before. Of course, you had to have the right leader to implement those sorts of laws. Did his father really care about making people less impoverished? Probably not.

"Right sort of leader." Zuko murmured aloud to himself in the otherwise silent room. What _was_ the right sort of leader? Someone who kept their citizens under control? Someone who tried to further the wealth and power of their state? Someone who listened when people had ideas and tried their best to keep everyone as happy and comfortable as possible? Zuko had learned very quickly that it was impossible to completely have it all. Something had to give. For a long time, in both the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom, the wellbeing of the people, had suffered in the name of power and control – and in Zuko's eyes, this was a mistake.

Just then, the lamp flickered and died.

Zuko swore in the dark, setting the heavy frame against the open draw. It had been sputtering for a while – he had been too distracted to replenish the oil. Zuko flattened his hand to bring forth a small flame whilst he refilled the lamp, and turned in the direction of the supply cabinet.

Except there was no fire.

Zuko frowned, and tried again. Nothing. Just a thin plume of smoke that he could faintly smell. He tried with his left hand. No fire.

_What is going on?_ Maybe he wasn't concentrating. Zuko closed his eyes, and breathed deeply, counting to ten, before trying again. Nothing was coming out. _How is this happening?_ Panic began to swell in his throat. Zuko blundered in the dark, fumbling for a candle and the spark rocks. He heard the _crash_ of a tray of tiles being knocked to the ground, and the shuffling of an upset stack of papers. Finally, his hand closed over a stick of wax, and the two small rocks. Zuko wedged the candle between his hip and the edge of the wooden table, lighting the wick with shaking hands. He found the candlestick in the shadows, and when the candle was righted, he rubbed his hands together, trying to calm himself. It was useless to try when he was upset. Zuko closed his eyes and breathed in and out slowly. Eventually, he opened his eyes, to see the flame waxing and waning with his own breath. Zuko cradled his hands around the flame, coaxing the fire to grow. It swelled at his compulsion, and when he drew his hands away, Zuko was able to hold a tiny flame in his palm. Carefully, Zuko compelled it to grow. It did. He clenched his hands into fists, the fire dying. Keeping himself calm, Zuko tried to summon fire again. Nothing but a tiny wisp of grey smoke again. Zuko kicked the leg of the table.

"_The fuck is going on!" _He crouched on the ground, head in his hands. _This can't be happening._ Losing his bending... It was an impossible nightmare. _It's not possible it can't be this has never happened before to __**anyone**__ before why is this happening to me it can't-_

Zuko must have blacked out. It seemed to him no time had passed, but when he finally snapped out of his torpor, Xi Quan was shaking his shoulder, shouting something in his ear.

"Lee! Lee can you hear me? Lee?" Zuko's head snapped up with a gasp. "Lee, what's _wrong."_

"Nothing." Zuko was breathless. "I-I'm fine."

"You're not fine." Xi Quan helped Zuko to stand, leading him to a chair. "I found you passed out on the floor! Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Zuko repeated as he sat down in his chair. "I-I'll be all right." He pressed a hand to his forehead. He still couldn't believe it. _I can't be losing my bending. _It was an intolerable thought.

"Drink this." A cup of cold water was pressed into his hands. Zuko took a few meagre sips obediently. He felt physically sick. "I'm going to send a messenger-boy to get someone to come pick you up."

"I'm fine." Zuko tried to sound firm, but he sounded very weak. "I don't need anyone to-"

"You need to go and lie down." Xi Quan withdrew a little, his hand on Zuko's shoulder. He looked the boy in the eye. "I'm not letting you walk home alone."

"Please, I'll be all right." Zuko begged. "If my girlfriend hears about this, she'll go crazy."

"And quite rightly." Xi Quan pressed his hand against Zuko's forehead. "You're _very_ hot. You must be coming down with something."

"I'm fine." Zuko didn't know how many times he could repeat himself. He sagged a little in relief, however. If his skin was hot, his core body temperature was still well above that of a non-bender. He still had his heat. _Just not the fire..._ "Please Xi Quan. I just need to sit down for a little bit, and I'll get right back to work."

"Oh, no." The elderly man shook his head. "You're not touching another tile today. I'm going to get a messenger-boy. Stay _here." _ Xi Quan walked through to the front room, and on to the outside street. Zuko rested his head in his shaking hands, overcome with the overwhelming urge to break down in sobs. _What did I do to deserve this?_ It wasn't an overreaction in Zuko's eyes – to him, his bending was _everything._ It wasn't just a preferred method of fighting. His own identity was so tightly knit with his bending abilities. His own escalation in skill was a testament to his own emotional maturity over the past few months. The strength of his own fire was an indication of his royal blood – the Royal family was said to be descended from Agni himself – what kind of son of Agni couldn't control fire? Without his firebending, he was nothing.

"Lee? Where does your girlfriend live again? You live with her and her family, don't you?"

"No!" Zuko's head snapped up. "I-I mean..." He licked his lips. "I do, but... Can I get someone else to come and get me?" He couldn't face Jin like this. He was too proud to see her sympathetic eyes and her comforting embrace. He needed to speak to his Uncle. And if not him, then the closest link he had left. "She'll get all fussy and to be honest I just want to be treated normally."

"As long as it's someone who can keep an eye on you."

"Thanks." Zuko rubbed at his eyes. "Um, Minsheng, the owner of the Dancing Monkey over on the south-east."

"I've had a drink there once or twice." Xi Quan nodded and stepped out into the front room. Zuko could hear him talking to the messenger-boy for a few moments, before returning to the back room. "Is he a relation?"

"He's a friend of my Uncles." Zuko said quietly. "He's helped me out before and ever since my Uncle... Um, left, he's been keeping an eye on me."

"That's fine then." Xi Quan noticed his apprentice's stall in his speech, but didn't press further. He bent down and picked up the scattered tray of tiles, his failing eyes squinting in the dim light. He'd lit the lamp, but it didn't help to distinguish between the letters, or even tell if he'd swept them all off the floor. "You'll have to resort these tiles tomorrow Lee, I don't have a hope anymore."

"Of course." Zuko nodded weakly, his hands twisting and turning in his lap. His mind was still very far away. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise." Xi Quan waved his hand. "I'm just glad you didn't knock the candle over. Imagine, you could have been burned alive, with all this paper around."

"Y-Yes." Maybe he could have. There was a lump in Zuko's throat. He felt as hopeless and vulnerable as a child. "Are you sure you can complete everything today?"

"The flyers aren't due to be out until tomorrow afternoon anyway, so that doesn't matter. We'll have to rush in the morning, though. Do you think you'll be all right for tomorrow?"

"I'll be fine." Zuko said quickly. "I'm feeling better already. Really."

"Take the day, rest, and come in a little earlier than normal." Xi Quan bent down to pick up the stack of papers. Really, he was a very kindly boss – he'd been badly mistreated during his own apprenticeship, and vowed instead to nurture his apprentice, and encourage a fascination for the industry and make him feel appreciated through good treatment, rather than insults and beatings. Unfortunately, in the past twenty years of running the press as a Master, finding the 'perfect' apprentice, who had a full education (nothing less was possible when it came to laying the type) but also the subservience and willingness to do the 'grunt' work for low wages, as it was with any apprenticeship, had been a long and arduous struggle. And with his eyesight beginning to fail, Xi Quan grew even more nervous about the future of his business and his own job security. This young, bright boy with flawless literacy and a genuine interest in printing seemed to be a gift sent by the Spirits. Word had already gotten around about Xi Quan's new apprentice, and the man had already caught an underling of one of his rivals trying to coax him to 'take a tour' of his press. Lee was without a doubt the future of his business, and he wasn't going to lose him to stress, illness, or the poaching of another rival. If it meant giving him an afternoon off, even when he insisted he was fine, so be it. Besides – Lee was obviously sick. His face was the colour of paper, he couldn't stop his lower lip from trembling, and there were deep shadows under his eyes.

"I can do that." Zuko nodded. "I don't want to leave you in the lurch."

"I'm sure I can manage an afternoon after going without an apprentice for a month." Not that it was fun – Orders had piled up to the extent that he begrudgingly had to cancel most of them, or redirect them to his rivals. "I want you to go rest and get better." Xi Quan stood up, and took the candle with him to closely examine the type Zuko had half-completed. "The rest of this is in the larger sizing. I'll try laying it myself." The bell in the front of the store tinkled. "Well, that was quick." He left the door ajar as he walked into the front room. Zuko took the cup of water from the table and took a long gulp. His mouth was very dry.

"Is he all right?"

"Yes, fine. I think he had some sort of turn, or he's coming down with something. He's not flushed, but he's got a bad fever." Zuko leaned back and closed his eyes as Minsheng walked into the back room.

"Lee, what happened?" Zuko opened his eyes slowly, hands still in his lap.

"Nothing." He replied weakly, pulling himself out of the chair. "I'll be fine, I just didn't want Jin to fuss." There was a deep frown on Minsheng's face as he analysed the boy. He certainly _looked_ ill.

"Well... Come with me and I'll sit you by the fire and get some food into you." Minsheng directed Zuko out of the room with his arm around his shoulders, confused. Why would he ask for him and not his girlfriend?

"Get some rest." Xi Quan advised as they entered the front room. It was much lighter, and Zuko had to squint against the light. "I'll see you tomorrow, Lee."

"You will." Zuko promised as he was led into the bright sunshine. As soon as they were into a quiet by-street, Minsheng stopped, holding Zuko in place with a hand on his shoulder.

"What's going on?" He demanded quietly, the frown still etched on his face. "Why did you ask for me?"

"I..." Zuko passed a hand over his eyes, drawing in a breath. "I didn't know who else to turn to. I need you to get me some kind of communication with my Uncle, I-"

"Oh, spirits, not this again." The man sighed. "Listen, I can't just let you wander in there, and there's no way of smuggling a letter in or out. Turns out the Dai Li are guarding him, we can't do anything."

"You _have_ to!" Zuko pulled away angrily. "I have to talk to him, _now._ You don't understand what's happening to me!"

"It's not _possible_, you just have to accept-"

"I've lost my bending!" Zuko shouted over the elder man, hands trembling. Minsheng froze, the anger on his face sinking to confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't make fire anymore." He started pacing back and forth in front of Minsheng. "I-I can _control _it, I can make it bigger and hold it in my hands, but I can't create it." He stopped. "Something's gone wrong. I've never heard of this happening to anyone before. I need to talk to Uncle, he's the only one in the city with any knowledge of firebending. He's the only one who can figure out what's wrong with me."

"I see." Minsheng had a finger against his chin, staring at the ground in thought. "That _is_ strange." Despite his mild disposition, he was genuinely concerned. "I'm not sure if he's the _only_ help you can get."

"Why?" Zuko's head snapped up. "Do you know another bender in the city?"

"What? No, goodness no. Who would be so foolish, amongst the Dai L..." He faltered, realising his faux pas. "At any rate, it's not a person, but it's the best you'll get here. I know you're upset, but trying to visit your uncle at this stage, or even smuggle in a letter, will seal your own fate." Minsheng turned, and began to walk in the other direction, leaving Zuko frozen for a moment.

"So... He never got my letter?" His shoulders slumped. Minsheng looked over his shoulder, giving a tiny smile.

"I'm so sorry, Lee. We tried. But it goes without saying, there's no Dai Li on our side, and Azula isn't letting anyone else near him for security reasons."

"He thinks I betrayed him." Zuko closed his eyes. "That I'm working with _her."_

"One thing at a time." Zuko felt the other man tug at his sleeve. "I'll get something to him for you, somehow. It might even be easier in the Fire Nation. The White Lotus extends her arms throughout the world. I just have to hand it on to someone who will hand it on to someone else, and it _might_ make it to him. We can do no more for you." He led Zuko back into the busy street. "Now. There's something I would like you to take a look at."

"What _is _it?" Zuko demanded, weaving through the busy crowd. Minsheng wasn't looking back as he marched through the street.

"History."

* * *

"Breathe in."

Azula obeyed the instruction, and forced down the pain in her ribs, keeping her eyes closed. The lantern on the table swelled and shrivelled with her breath. The hand pressed against her side was a little colder than her skin, leaving goosebumps. She continued the long, slow breathing until the hand at her side pulled away.

"All right. Can you stand up, and raise your arms?"

Azula opened her eyes, and nodded wordlessly. She slid down from the bench and stood with her feel shoulder-width apart. This man was said to be the best doctor in the entire Earth Kingdom, the Earth King's own personal physician. She wasn't going to trust anyone but the best with her own health. The doctor pressed his hands against both sides, mumbling under his breath.

"I need you to take some clothing off; I can't feel the ribs underneath the fabric." Azula nodded in assent, untying the sash and unclasping her tunic, which she draped over the bench. He ran his fingers along her side. "Hm, are you wearing anything beneath your undershirt...?"

"Of course." Azula lifted the shirt over her head, standing in her underwear and silk trousers. She could see her side in the mirror, mottled black and purple. The doctor blinked and adjusted his spectacles carefully.

"That's some nasty bruising. What did you say happened again?"

"I didn't." Azula's teeth were gritted.

"It looks like a very heavy, blunt instrument. Was it earth bending?"

"Yes." She rolled her eyes at the ceiling. He gave a low whistle.

"It was a very good shot, it must have hu-"

"Are you _finished?"_ Azula snapped, eyes flashing dangerously. "I only asked for a simple examination."

"Deepest apologies, Princess." He bowed deeply and returned to examining her side. "Can you raise your arms and breathe again for me?"

"Yes." Azula stretched her arms heavenward, breathing deeply. Damn, it hurt. It was some time before the doctor stepped away, frowning.

"They're definitely broken." He announced, adjusting his spectacles again. "Two of them are broken completely through the bone. These ones here." He touched the blackest skin, lightly. "The two above and below are probably cracked in a similar area. You took a very bad knock, Princess Azula. How much pain are you in?"

"It's bearable." She said shortly. "How long before it's healed?"

"You should be in bed right now." He took of his glasses and dapped at his watery eyes with a handkerchief. "Even a slight jolt or knock could send one of the bones into your lungs." Azula's fists instinctively clenched. "I can't bind them up, because you will still have to breathe. I don't know if there's much I can do. You need to be-"

"How _long._" She repeated slowly and evenly. He was trying her patience.

"Several months." The doctor gabbled quickly, backing away from the Princess. "Until the Autumn, at the very lea-"

"I don't have several months." She turned, so the doctor couldn't see her face. "Leave."

"P-Princess Azula, you need to re-"

"_Leave!"_ He didn't need telling twice. She heard the middle-aged man shuffling rapidly, and the opening and shutting of the door. With a long sigh, Azula sank into the edge of the bench, head in her hands.

This was the _worst_ thing that could happen. Months? She couldn't be out of action until the Autumn! She couldn't miss the Comet! It was her true opportunity to showcase the extent of her power, to crush her enemies once and for all, while her father looked on in pride. She would get a second opinion. The doddering old fool had no idea what he was talking about. She would get a proper, Fire Nation physician to look at her properly, put some kind of cast or splint on them so it would heal rapidly.

In her heart, Azula knew it was a delusion. The black skin on her side, the incredible pain whenever she breathed deeply, they told the story plainly. She had been _hurt_, badly. How could she rule Ba Sing Se in this state? Worse, how could she track down and eliminate the Avatar's allies? She wasn't going to sink as low as to hire someone else to do her dirty work.

She wasn't that desperate yet.

"Azula?" Her head snapped up at the sound of the timid voice on the other side of the door. _Ty Lee._ "Azula, can I come in? I have a letter from the Fire Lord."

"Come in." She replied distractedly, fumbling for her undershirt. She struggled to put it on before Ty Lee entered the room, but the younger girl saw the black and purple along Azula's ribs, looking even worse against her ivory skin. Ty Lee swallowed, but pretended she had seen nothing.

"This just came in." Azula stood up and accepted the scroll, tied in a black ribbon.

"Thank you." Azula broke the seal and let the ribbon drift to the floor. She read the letter quickly, biting her lip. She skipped through the hyperbolic pleasantries, but read with relish his praise of her success, a smile twitching on her lips. Halfway through, Azula finally reached the point of the letter.

_After much deliberation, I have decided that Ba Sing Se should remain as intact as possible. The extensive industrialisation of this city has a potential to bring vast prosperity to our great nation. In order to utilise the human and material wealth of the city most efficiently, I have ordered General Mung to assume the role of Governor over Ba Sing Se. His impressive success in the construction and development of the Jang Hui smelting factory has proven that he would be an excellent overseer for the management of Ba Sing Se, and I believe he would thrive under such an opportunity. He will be flown in on my personal airship, and should arrive within a week of this letter. I trust that you will be very accommodating to him. I am told that armed and naval forces will arrive very shortly to secure the cit. You should position some of your Dai Li agents on the outer wall to greet them. They will have more specific information regarding the last phase of the capture of Ba Sing Se. Once General Mung has assumed his role, you are to return with that Earth Kingdom rebel Jet and the disgraced ex-General Iroh. I cannot stress enough how imperative it is that your uncle remain in our custody. When you have returned home, we shall discuss the issue of your traitorous brother further. _

The rest of the letter was uninteresting. Azula read it carelessly, and rolled up the scroll with her eyes on the ground. In part, she was relieved. Her father had bought her story, believing the Avatar to be dead. He had smothered her with praise, and was entrusting the next phase of the invasion to her. As far as _he_ knew, nothing was amiss.

"Interesting." Azula clenched the letter in her fist, watching as it burst into blue flames. Ty Lee started, staring wide-eyed at the burning scroll.

"What's going to happen?" She breathed, watching Azula pull on her tunic. "Are we staying here?"

"For now." Azula wound the green sash about her waist, mind ticking over. General Mung. She didn't know much about the man – he wasn't one of her fathers' best and brightest. Rather, he had been relegated to a small town on the outskirts of the country. Why had he chosen _him?_ He must have done something quite spectacular at the Jang Hui factory, to be given such an opportunity.

Azula straightened, her side twinging in pain. This was a bigger trouble for her. _How am I going to get anything done with this? _How could she fight, when a soft knock could kill her? Was it a suicide mission, to try track down, and defeat, her brother and the Avatars allies?

It didn't matter, really. Azula would rather die than be humiliated and banished by her father.

* * *

"Well Jin, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Afternoon, Aunty Liang." Jin followed the woman into the store, which sold a range of luxury fabrics in the front, whilst in the back several women were employed as seamstresses, and embroiderers. The sunny afternoon illuminated the shop front, the silks gleaming in the light. "I'm altering some silk, and Ma and I don't know what to do with an embroidered pattern that will get pulled in."

"Ah." Liang gestured Jin to the counter. "I see, let me have a look at it." Jin nodded as she took the folded green silk from her basket. "The fabric is _lovely_, where did you get it?"

"Well, it was a robe of Lee's Uncles. Did Ma tell you about Lee?"

"Yes, I had tea with her last week, she said he's a lovely boy. Good for you, Jin."

"Thanks." Her cheeks coloured lightly. "Anyway, he's... Not in Ba Sing Se anymore, and he left this behind. Lee gave it to me to alter. The height is about the same, but the width definitely isn't. I'm not sure what to do with the embroidered bits here." She pointed them out.

"Oh, I see what you mean." Liang ran her fingers along the fabric. "How long are you making it? Is it for summer?"

"I was thinking mid-calf." Jin explained. "I'd like it to be a little shorter, but I like the band across the bottom, and it would spoil the fabric to have it cut."

"It should look lovely at the length it is." Liang held it up a little. "Now look Jin, this embroidery work is _phenomenal. _I certainly can't make the like, and I wouldn't be comfortable altering it."

"Oh," Jin's shoulders slumped. "It's just that I won't be able to afford an Upper Ring seamstress..."

"No no, I understand." She paused, deep in thought. "Tell you what, do you remember Ta Min? She worked here for a while but left after the birth of her first child." Jin was looking a little confused. "She was a very quiet woman, with very black hair, bone-white skin. And her _eyes, _I swear they're yellow." Jin's face was still blank at the physical description. "She did most of the finicky work, left a few years ago to have her baby."

"I think I remember..." Jin said slowly. "She had a little girl, didn't she?"

"And a boy, a year or so ago. Anyway, I sometimes send some difficult work her way. She'll still charge of course, but it won't be a quarter of what it would be in the Upper Ring, and she might even do it in exchange for food or babysitting."

"That would be great." Jin beamed. "And she won't mind?"

"I'm sure she won't." Liang wrote the address down on a scrap of paper. "I think she misses the work. I'd take her back if I could, but she can't commit to full-time work again until her babes have grown."

"Thanks so much, Aunty Liang." She folded the silken robe and placed it inside her basket. "Guess I'll see you at the picnic if I don't beforehand."

"Enjoy your afternoon, Jin." The woman smiled as Jin entered the street. Jin stared at the scrap of paper as she wandered down the wide lane. Jin tried to remember Ta Min, but all she could remember was a quiet dark-haired figure, bent over her needlework in the corner of the work-room.

_Keeping quiet in the corner was probably a good thing, _Jin mused as she wandered down the street. _Better than sticking out, being a target. _She looked down at the scrap of paper. Not too far from her house. She could even stop for a quick bite to eat at home before going.

_Wait._ Jin pulled up short in the street.

_Yellow eyes?_

* * *

"Excuse me Mr. Lin, sir?"

"Huh?" Hwan jerked awake from his doze, adjusting his spectacles. His secretary smiled a little, despite herself. "Chi, what is it?"

"One of your students is here with his father, to discuss something about a bad grade." She rolled her eyes at the ceiling a little.

"Ugh." He sighed, shuffling a stack of papers. "The spoiled little brat must think Daddy can bribe me into passing him. Send him in." She nodded and walked out. The Professor of Early Fire Nation History assumed a look of mild indifference on his face as the door was opened, an expression which rapidly changed when he realised who it was that had just entered his room.

"Minsheng!" He stood up, walking around the desk. "Haven't seen you in years! What bring you here?"

"I need your access to some documents." Zuko watched them shake hands. Of course. The White Lotus focused on the sharing of knowledge – obviously, university academics would be amongst them. "Most importantly, the old foreign scrolls. Does the university still hold them?"

"Of course." Hwan nodded. "They're snipping at my heels, but as long as I focus my research on _before_ the War, I'm not breaking any laws. But why would you want them? You won't be able to decipher them. Even I - Oh!" He blinked, finally realising that Minsheng had brought a guest with him. "Who is this?"

"This... Is Prince Zuko." The teenager turned towards the older man, eyes wide in alarm. "It's okay Zuko, he's a friend. If anyone will know how to help you, this will be him." He lightly touched his shoulder, coaxing the teen to shake hands.

"It's an _honour_." Hwan said simply as he gripped Zuko's hand, shaking it briefly. He had so many questions_._ For years, all he had wanted was just five minutes with even just an army officer or maybe a nobleman, to discuss his research. This was an opportunity beyond his wildest dreams – finally, someone to confirm his highly controversial findings on the Fire Nation before the reign of Sozin, which he didn't dare to publish. His mind was whirling. "What is it you need? Anything, I'll do my best to help."

"Zuko is having bending troubles." Minsheng announced, eyeing the tall shelves of books. "Do you have, or know about, anything on firebending? Old instructions, or techniques?"

"Wait... Let me check." Hwan pulled from the shelf a very thick book, setting it down on his desk with a loud_ thud._ "This is a catalogue of every Fire Nation manuscript held in the library." He explained, running his finger along a page in the front. "Naturally, our collection hasn't been updated in a hundred years, but some of the material is _much_ older. Let me see..." His tongue was between his teeth. "There is something." He flicked through the heavy pages. "Yes, it's being held in the library. It's a instructional scroll for novice firebenders and covers all the basics." Zuko perked up. "Oh. Oh. Oh. No, no matter." He shook his head. "It's written in the extinct language of the Fire Sages." Hwan explained. "Unless you can speak that, it will be useless."

"I only know the High Language." Zuko sighed. "Dammit. Is there anything else that might be any help?" But Hwan was looking at him in perplexed surprise. "What?"

"What's the High Language?" He fumbled for a pen and paper to take notes. "I haven't come across it."

"It's an ancient tongue spoken only by male blood members of the Royal Family. Well, not spoken. It's only ever written down. It's _said_ to be the language of the dragons, but that's all propaganda. The only surviving people to know it are me, my father, and my Uncle." Hwan was frowning.

"Does it look like this?" He pulled another book down from the shelf, opening it at random and handing it to Zuko.

"A... A bit." Zuko held the page a bit closer to his eyes, as though it would help him better decipher the complicated characters. "I don't know this word though... and it's strange. The characters aren't exactly the same. The phrasing is different and the sentences aren't ordered right. I _think_ I understand it though."

"Fascinating." Hwan muttered. "Absolutely fascinating." Zuko looked up from the book. "That, Prince Zuko, _is _the language of the Fire Sages. Your High Language is simply a modern form of it... Of course, it must have been adapted after the first Fire Lord st-"

"It's not modern." Zuko closed the book, getting annoyed. "Look, what does this have to do with me and my bending?"

"Simple." Hwan brightened. "_I_ can't read that scroll. But with luck, you can." He took the book from Zuko's hands and returned it to the shelf thoughtfully. It was interesting. Zuko obviously had no _idea_ about his own ancestry. The embellished history that was little more than propaganda was taken much, much more seriously in the Fire Nation than Hwan realised. Perhaps he and his little cluster of academics were only people who knew the _truth_ about the troubled nation. "Come with me. Minsheng, do you mind if we go alone?"

"No, go ahead." Minsheng took a seat in the comfortable chair before the desk. "Take your time." He was glad to take some time out for personal reflection, maybe leaf through a book. The stress of managing the White Lotus and housing the deposed Earth King was starting to take his toll on him. "I'll be in here."

"Excellent." Hwan opened the door, motioning for Zuko to follow him. "Now, Zuko – wait. Do you have a false name for the public eye?"

"Lee."

"All right, Lee then. Do you mind if I ask, because I'm quite unaware, what exactly _is_ the current source of firebending?"

"Current?" Zuko blinked as they walked down the hallway. "I don't know if it _used_ to be anything, but I was always taught that it was hatred and rage." He paused. _Is that why I'm having trouble? _Hwan looked sideways to the teen, troubled. No wonder firebenders were so aggressive and heartless. Did _every_ firebender draw from the same inner source? Hwan opened his mouth to say something, but thought the better, keeping it closed. Better he found out for himself.

Conversation was sparse. Hwan struck up an attempt at dialogue several times, but Zuko was distracted, and vague. Clearly, he had more things on his mind. Anyway, the matters the professor _really_ wanted to discuss – the politics, the history, and the impact of the War – could only be mentioned behind closed doors. Rules in the city may have recently relaxed somewhat, but Hwan wasn't going to let his guard down. The awkward silence between the pair was only broken when they had entered through a back door in an underground floor, unlocked by a slender brass key carried by Hwan.

"Wear these gloves." The man pulled two pairs of clean cotton gloves out of a drawer, handing one to Zuko. "The dirt and oil in human skin can damage the paper."

"All right." Zuko watched Hwan walk around the room, lighting the lamps before pulling on the gloves, an odd sense of jealously rising within him. "So where is this scroll then?"

"Let me double check." The walls were at least seven feet high, lined completely with shelves for books and cubicles for scrolls. There must have been at several thousand manuscripts in the room. "Take a seat." Zuko complied, sitting down at the long, well-lit table in the center of the room. Hwan took out a book, a replica of the catalogue in his own office, and searched the pages.

"Where did Ba Sing Se get all of these scrolls?" Zuko arched his neck to look at them. Despite his own worries, he was intrigued.

"Until the War, the four nations were very open with knowledge and information." Hwan explained. "There are rooms like this for the Water Tribe and Air Nomads, although they are less furnished."

"So the Air Nomads live on, sort of."

"In their texts, yes." Hwan stood up, walking across the room as he searched for the cubicle. "Their history and culture is not lost, although their people sadly are. There are quite a few scholars on the Air Nomads in the university, analysing their culture, philosophy, literature, technology, and the like. Here we are." He extracted the scroll carefully. "I'll roll it out for you. Please, try not to touch it if you can. It's rather old."

"How old?" Zuko leaned back a little as Hwan carefully set it down on the table. He watched the man unroll it slowly, weighing down the ends with little brass paperweights.

"About three hundred years." Hwan stood back, casting his eye over the scroll. It was mainly text, but there were a few diagrams, showing various bending forms, and positions for meditation. "Can I get you anything? A pen and paper? If you want something to eat or drink, you'll have to go into another room."

"I'll be fine, thank you." Zuko murmured. Hwan nodded and took a book off the shelf, one he had already read cover to cover, but he sat down with it anyway. There was a copy in his office, but it couldn't beat the tactile sensation of the old, heavy parchment in his hand, and the thick musty smell that was a drug to the professor.

Zuko propped his head on his hands, elbows on the table, and read. His lips moved silently as he struggled to form coherent sentences in his mind. It was slow going. The syntax was awkward, the spelling not what he was accustomed to, and there were some words that he had to guess from context. It was a little like reading something of another dialect, and it was _hard._ He recalled the many unpleasant afternoons spent with his father throughout his childhood, who thought that the best way for his son to learn the High Language was to beat it into him. No wonder he wasn't any good. If it wasn't for the lessons from his Uncle over the past few years, he wouldn't have any chance of understanding it.

It was _astonishing._ Zuko almost refused to believe what it was he was reading. The scroll claimed that firebending was a blessing of a select few, chosen by Agni who breathed his own life upon a chosen soul at the moment of conception. Those who were chosen were bound to Agni, the sun, and their fire came from the life-breath within them. The fire was a culmination of one's inner heat, an internal sun. It was life, and energy.

It made sense. Even though it seemed utterly ridiculous, a fantasy story for children, it made sense within Zuko's mind. If a firebender wasn't tied to the sun, then why would a solar eclipse nullify their power? His own bending was always stronger in the daytime, and he'd heard reports of benders who had actually _died_ from staying out of sunlight for very long periods of time. He had seen first-hand how waterbenders were tied to the moon, why not firebenders to the sun?

After its doctrinal explanation, the scroll went on to describe the rudimentary beginnings of firebending, starting with a long period of unclothed meditation in full sunlight, to recognise the heat and energy of Agni, which must be repeated several times, and then moving on to basic breathing exercises which were somewhat familiar to Zuko, although one must 'always be mindful of Agni' as the scroll advised.

Zuko was so engrossed in what he was reading, that it took a rather severe shaking on his shoulder to snap him out of his absorption. Zuko gasped and blinked, staring up at Hwan.

"We have to go." Hwan sounded regretful. He took the scroll – carefully – and began to roll it up. Zuko watched as he replaced the ancient manuscript in the special cubicle, keeping his eyes fixed on the enamelled roller. "I'll try and get you some more time." _Try? _Zuko's eyes widened. No. He couldn't just have him _try,_ he needed to read the scroll. More than read, he needed to _have_ it. Zuko wasn't going to regain his bending by trying to catch a few minutes with it once or twice a week.

"Did you hear that?" Hwan froze as he stepped away from the shelf. Zuko shook his head. "I think someone is down here. Don't move." Hwan pulled off the cotton gloves, and slipped out of the room, leaving the door ajar. Zuko could hear him talking with a masculine voice in a muffle undertone.

He only had a few moments. Zuko wasn't even thinking as he yanked the scroll out of the cubicle, tearing the parchment from the heavy rollers. His hands shook as he haphazardly folded the paper into a lump, thrusting it inside his clothing. The pulse in his his ears thudded so loud, Zuko wasn't sure if Hwan was even talking anymore. He replaced the rollers, taking his seat just as Hwan pushed open the door. His cotton gloves were damp with sweat. That was _so_ close.

"Professer Pang was getting something out from the room next door." Hwan said quietly. "Had to tell me all about it, I thought he would never leave... We'll have to be very, very quiet."

"All right." Zuko pulled off the gloves, the parchment crinkling under his clothes as he stood up. He couldn't believe what he was taking. By all rights, it was a national treasure, a unique piece of history that was all but exterminated in his own country.

_Exactly. _Zuko tried to console himself. _My own country. This is my history, my bending, not the Earth Kingdoms. For Agni's sake, I'm the only one who can understand the damn language!_ He was trying to tell himself that it was okay to damage a precious, ancient manuscript for his own benefit.

It wasn't working very well.

* * *

It seemed like the right address.

Jin knocked on the door three times, and stood back, swinging the basket idly from one hand. She heard a few footsteps, before the door was pulled open, revealing a tall black-haired woman with baby resting against her hip.

"Hello?" She smiled, tilting her head to one side. Jin was frozen. "Can I help you?"

"Afternoon, Ta Min." Jin finally found her voice, feeling clumsy in her shock. A pair of fiery yellow eyes, the exact colour and shape of Zuko's, were staring at her in confusion. "I'm Liang's niece, Jin. I'm needing some embroidery work done and she told me to come to you for help." A few freckles were dusted across the womans' nose, but otherwise, her skin was flawlessly porcelain. Jin had only ever met two people so shockingly pale – Zuko and Azula. _It has to be her. She looks just like them! Even her nose... Zuko got his nose from her._ Even her jawline and facial shape echoed his. _Maybe everyone from the Fire Nation looks like that... _ Jin tried very hard not to jump to conclusions, but who else could this woman be?

"Oh!" She opened the door. "Come in." Jin followed silently. "Sorry, it's a little messy." The door was closed behind Jin, swamping the narrow hallway in darkness. "Come into the sitting room, it has the best light." Jin was led into a sunny, cheery room with a young girl scribbling on a piece of paper on a green rug. "Suyin, this is Jin. Say hello."

"Hello." The girl turned her head to quietly regard Jin with wide, impassive eyes. They were the colour of amber. Suyin had to be about three years old. Was she some sort of bender?

"Hi." Jin smiled. She was about to say more, but the little girl turned back to her scribbled drawing.

"Don't worry about her." Jin watch the woman set the infant in her arms down on the floor at her feet, taking a seat at the long couch. "She's a very quiet little girl. Now, show me this embroidery."

"Of course." Jin sat beside her, taking the silk from her basket. She tried tensing her hands, to mask the trembling, but it failed. She hoped it went unnoticed. "See, it's very detailed and I don't want to mutilate it."

"No, it's very pretty." The silk was held up to the light. "Luckily, I have some fine thread in this colour. So, you want to take it in, and keep the embroidery matching up?"

"Yes. I tried to see if it would line up, because it's a pattern, but it won't happen, and I'm not quite what sure what to do."

"The pattern is complicated, but repetitive. I can fix it easily, but... Hm, You haven't marked it out. If I go get some pins, can you put it on for me so we can see where it will sit?" Her tone had an easy matter-of-factness to it. She didn't _seem_ as quiet and meek-minded as Jin expected the wife of a Fire Lord to be.

"Sure." Jin watched the woman leave, letting out a long breath. She sat down on the edge of the couch, staring at Suyin scribbling away on the little piece of paper. Could these two children really be Zuko's siblings? Having the same skin and eye colour didn't mean anything, certainly not enough to go running to Zuko about it.

_Oh spirits, I can't tell him._ Not until she was sure – she couldn't get his hopes up like that, it would be cruel. He'd really only spoken of her after he'd been drinking, and even then it was loose titbits of information that didn't tell Jin much. But it was painfully obvious that without any information about her, completely unaware if she was even alive, Zuko suffered.

_But what if it is her?_ Jin picked up the silken robe, twisting it between her fingers. _He'd be so happy. He might actually be at peace with himself. He really could settle down and make a life here._

_You selfish bitch._ Jin pressed her lips together, casting her eyes to the ceiling. _Zuko's more important than this stupid run-down town. Someone has to save the world, and we're running out of heroes. He can't stay here._ She was still struggling to come to terms with the fact that he might leave. Yes, he said he would take her, but it was hardly a promise. What if he just left, in the middle of the night? What if he abandoned her? It was a fear that grew on her, gnawed uncomfortably at her insides. Jin was somewhat proud of cool detachment in almost all of her previous relationships, but over the past few weeks, Jin had become closer to Zuko than she ever had been with a boy. Even though their relationship still lacked physical intimacy, the connection between them ran deeper than anything Jin had ever experienced. Zuko had his flaws, of course – she wasn't deluded – but no one was perfect, and although his depression and angsting grated on her, she did her best to offer simple comfort. That's what it was, really. Simple. Nothing between them was complicated anymore. They didn't keep secrets _Right?_

Jin stood up, pulling off her outer robe and throwing it on the couch. _I have to find out somehow if this woman really is his mother._ Of course she did. She wasn't going to let this lie.

* * *

"I thought I might find you in here."

Sokka looked up as Toph closed the door behind her, walking around the large bed and leaning against the desk. Sokka was poring over a map, with a pencil between his teeth, a piece of paper at his side, with a long list of names and numbers on the side. "Trying to get some quiet?"

"Something like that." Sokka removed the pencil from his teeth, and rested his forehead against his palm. "I'm trying to do some figures, and work out how we can carry out the invasion."

"How's it going?" Toph asked, drumming her fingers against the tabletop.

"Without the Earth Kingdom's armies, we're at a bad disadvantage." Sokka admitted, leaning back and staring at the map. "Our _best_ option would be some sort of late-night sneak attack, but of course, that's impossible with the eclipse, it has to be in the afternoon. If the weapons I planned come through, then we could have a technological advantage over them. We have to concentrate on securing the main route from the coast to the palace." Sokka traced the line, forgetting that Toph wasn't able to see what he was gesturing at. "If Aang can fly ahead and find Fire Lord Ozai, and take him out, and we manage to secure the palace when the eclipse happens, it's possible. There's a lot of what ifs, though."

"The biggest being Aang." Toph said quietly. Sokka nodded slowly. "Considering how bad he was hit, he's doing well."

"We only have one week left." Sokka threw down the pencil, shaking his head. "My father won't think he's well enough. They'll all want to go home."

"It's not your father making the decision." Toph said carefully. "It's Katara. She knows his health better than any of us. If you think that maybe Aang could be good enough to fight at the time of the eclipse, you could ask Katara to... exaggerate his health, if you get me."

"You mean ask her to lie." Sokka said bluntly. Toph shrugged. "Have you talked to her about this at all?"

"She didn't seem to go for it." Toph stepped away, beginning to pace the room. "This was a week ago, maybe she's changed her mind, but she didn't seem thrilled."

"I wonder why." Sokka looked down at his plans. It all hung on so _much_.There were a million things that could go wrong, that could get them killed or imprisoned... They were risking a lot, for this one slim chance, and no one was more aware of it than Sokka. For him, it was a strikingly personal affirmation of his own success – or failure. This was _his_ plan, it would work, or it wouldn't, and it all came down to his own skill as a commander and tactician. Everyone, including his father, had effectively placed their fate in his sixteen-year-old hands, and as each day passed, he grew more uncomfortably aware of the burden that had fallen on him. It was all right when it was just the four of them, when he only had his own conscience to answer to. No one else judged him for his failings. He was just Sokka. But this was _different_.

But if he wanted to be a warrior and a leader, he had to get used to it. If he wanted to one day be in a position where he was respected, admired, and looked up to, Sokka had to learn how to deal with responsibility and leadership, not at his own choice, but when it was demanded of him. He heaved a long sigh, and looked around at the tiny room, a cabin hidden within the bowels of the ship. He'd put the desk in it the day after the vessel was taken, and called it his study, spending every waking moment fretting over the maps, drawing up possible plans, testing possible theories with models, trying to come up with something that could work as a viable battle plan and not rely on a plethora of lucky coincidences and hopeful encounters.

He didn't feel old enough for this. Sokka grew very close, on more than one occasion, to completely giving up. Three days ago, his father walked in to find him in tears, asking him to take over because he was too young, too stupid to be trusted with something this important. It took a long time for the battle-hardened chief to convince his son that he was the perfect person to negotiate an attack that rested on skill and cunning, rather than numbers and brute force. Sokka still didn't feel entirely confident, and was still hoping for some kind of miracle, an epiphany in bed, a revelation that would suddenly come to him and show the perfect strategy. But it never came. Instead, Sokka resigned himself to scratching up more numbers on his piece of paper, pushing around paper models and tracing faint lines on the map.

"Maybe you should take a break." Toph suggested gently, resting a hand on Sokka's shoulder.

"Huh?" He jumped at the contact. "No, I'm fine. I just need some silence so I can concentrate."

"Okay, I get it, I'll go." Hurt, Toph turned away, padding across the room. "But Sokka," She paused in the doorway. "Don't overwork yourself, 'kay?"

"I won't." Sokka rubbed at his stinging eyes, picking up the pencil as Toph closed the door. She leaned against the door for a long time, one palm pressed against the metal.

If only there was something she could do to help.

* * *

Jin was organizing her bedside drawer when Zuko entered the tiny sloping bedroom.

It was something she did every month or so, usually when she had a free afternoon with no chores, no friends to visit, no siblings to watch, and her mind was a whirl of confusion. It was relaxing, to upend the battered drawer out on her bed, and watch the junk tumble onto the blanket. She would pick up everything, and sort into small piles, sometimes based on size, sometimes on colour, sometimes age. Today, Jin was co-ordinating her pathetic little possessions on how she came by them. She had a pile of things she'd bought with her own money, another for gifts from family and friends, and one of love-tokens.

The love-token pile was the largest.

There were two rings, one set with jade, another plain brass, a porcelain painted bird, a silken handkerchief, a long green hair ribbon she never wore, three cheap bracelets, a satchel that once smelled of jasmine, but lost its' scent months ago, a bone hairpin, a tiny carved box that held a miniscule gemstone, too small even for a ring, and a handful of love-letters.

They weren't new. The little love-tokens had all been given to her the year before, some even the year before that. It had been a long time since anyone had deemed Jin worthwhile of any sort of romantic gesture. Except of course, the gold necklace Zuko had given her. The one that _bitch_ stole. Jin sighed as she unfolded one of the letters. It was a poem – and not an original one. Some derivative haiku about how lovely her hair and eyes were. Yet when she received it, Jin thought it was the sweetest thing anyone had written. In her dimly-lit room, she sighed. How silly of her.

Surrounded by the love-tokens, Jin felt undeniably _old_. As though her best days were behind her, her beauty had already faded and already she wasn't worth even a bone ring or a pain hair ribbon. She let the letter fall to the bed, a hand over her eyes as she leaned forward. How could she feel like this? She was only sixteen.

"Are you okay?" Jin started at the voice in her doorway, lifting her head to see Zuko crossing the tiny room, pushing everything aside so he could sit next to her on the meagre bed.

"Hi Zuko." Jin blinked rapidly, hoping it would clear her vision. "I'm fine, just... Looking at all these presents I've been given over the years." She gestured to the pile of love-tokens. "All from boys claiming to be in love with me.."

"All of them?" Zuko asked incredulously, as Jin rested her head on his shoulder. She nodded vacantly.

"All of them. Fifteen all up, from twelve different boys. Sixteen, if you include the necklace you gave me." She found his hand and squeezed it. "I stopped getting presents a little while ago, when they realised they didn't need to buy things to get me... Well." Jin buried her face in Zuko's shoulder. "I shouldn't have tried organizing my things this way. I didn't realise how many there were, until it was all put together like that." She groped blindly, found the stack of tokens, and brushed it all away, so it was just a jumbled mess across her bed, with no cohesion or pattern. This wasn't what she was supposed to think about. She found a woman she was almost entirely sure was Zuko's mother, and she had to figure out a way to get them together without revealing anything beforehand. She couldn't be seen moping about, with the remains of her love-life spread out before her. _Why did he have to see all of this? He already thinks I'm a slut, this is going to make it seem even worse..._

Zuko didn't know what to say. He looked at all the love-tokens strewn about the bed. Twelve previous claims to Jin. He wondered how far they had all gotten with her, how much of her mind, soul, body, she had allowed them.

He couldn't think about it. Zuko kept his mind closed to the idea, bile rising in his stomach. He couldn't comprehend the thought of someone else laying even a hand on Jin, let alone crossing through territories he didn't dare to approach. There was a competitive jealousy between him, a stubborn will to at least attempt to believe that he had a solitary claim on her. With his free arm, Zuko pulled the broken necklace from his pocket, setting it down on the blanket amongst the fifteen other tokens of affection. The gold gleamed in the small shaft of fading sunlight, looking very bright amongst the full bone and brass and wood. It was without a doubt the nicest thing amongst the worn collection, the only thing made of precious metal, constructed with the finest craftsmanship and skill.

Zuko didn't understand the jealousy rising within him, nor did he like it. It wasn't a paranoid fear that Jin would betray him, and run off with someone else – he knew she still had her loyalty, and would never leave him. It was more a sickening thought, that no matter how he touched her, what he said, _someone had been there before._ He knew Jin was experienced, and he was slowly beginning to come to terms with that. Seeing them spread out before him, like a tally, a visible reminder, it made him feel sick. A childhood of conventional stories of his own ancestors, with moralistic, high-brow poetry preaching the virtues of women and the perfect wife, had aligned his perception of beauty with overblown images of purity, chastity, and honour, and Zuko struggled to reconcile this ideal with Jin and her numerous past lovers. Zuko hated himself for this prejudice – he loved her, and in his eyes she_ was _beauty and perfection, he didn't want anyone else. He couldn't see himself opening up entirely, exposing his soul, to another human in the same way. Zuko didn't know how to deal with himself, and he knew that he was hurting Jin with his inability to subconsciously look beyond the idealised image of beauty and perfection that had beleaguered his childhood.

"Anyway. We got invited to a party tonight, if you want to go." Jin haphazardly flung handfuls of brass, metal, and bone into the drawer. Jin didn't see the gold necklace, and Zuko winced as it was carelessly cast aside. "Sounds like fun." She pulled away, not wanting any more of his fake comfort intermingled with an odd disgust. She turned to him, forcing a smile. Zuko nodded half-heartedly. "Cool." So, how was your day? Anything interesting at work happen?" She attempted some simple conversation, trying to fight back the rock settling in her stomach. Zuko shuffled uncomfortably on the bed, the paper crinkling against his chest, barely discernable.

"No." He kept his voice as light as he could. He wasn't sure why he was lying to her. Shame, mostly. He didn't _want_ to admit his failure to her, didn't want to see her sympathetic eyes and soft words that everything would be okay. If he could, he'd try and regain everything without her knowing.

"Not really."

* * *

It's really another one of those 'not much happening' chapters, really. I'm sorry if you feel short-changed, I know that was a lot of talking. And even if I do say the next chapter will make up for it, you probably won't believe me. That being said, if you enjoyed it, review! And if you didn't, review anyway and tell me what you didn't like and I'll try and keep in mind for next time.


	24. Chapter 24

Hey y'all.

I know this isn't as long as what you're used to, but I intended to be participating in NaNoWriMo, and while I'll try to work on this a reasonable amount, in case it doesn't, I'll cut the unfinished scene at the end, and post it as is. If people still care. I think I've left things too late now. Woops.

* * *

"Why did we stop at a pub again?"

"You're holding the reason why." Jin tapped the cup Zuko held in his hand, smiling. "No one was able to get any black-market booze, at least not cheaper than bar-drinking. We'll only stay for a few quick ones, and then head over to Ai's place. Things won't heat up for a while anyway."

"She only goes for the drama." Jiro muttered in Zuko's ear. "Sometimes to watch, usually to participate."

"Hey." Jin frowned. "I don't do that anymore. Hurry up and finish, I'll get the next round, then it's Lee's turn. You have money, right Lee?"

"A bit." Zuko responded carefully. Was it a bad idea to bring everything? He didn't _intend_ to spend all of his hard-earned cash; it was for more of an emergency situation. "I guess I can get one each, but no more."

"A round each will be plenty, if we have enough." Lien reassured the boy, taking another sip of her maotai. "I might not even have the last one. I can't drink like you two."

"Well, no one can drink like Jin." Jiro commented, watching his sister drain her cup, upending it to let the last few drops splash on her tongue. "See?"

"I'm gonna get the next lot." Jin stood up, the chair scraping on the floor. "Same for all?" Three dark heads nodded in her direction. "Great." She hummed to herself as she headed across the room, heading to the bar.

"Uh, do you ever worry about how much she drinks?" As soon as she was out of earshot, Zuko leaned forward to put the question to Jiro. "I mean, these past few nights, she's been having a lot."

"Nah." Jiro shrugged, taking a gulp. He wasn't worried, he knew Jin could easily hold her own. "I wouldn't stress. She's toned down a fair bit. She'll just drink enough to get a buzz, then stop. Well, can't afford much more." He laughed, setting down his near-finished cup. "You two might want to speed up, Jin's gonna be back in a tick with more." Zuko obediently lifted the cup to his lips, and began to drink. When he first had a sip of maotai, Zuko spit his mouthful back into his cup, thinking it was horrible. At Jin's advice, he learned to drink by tilting his head back, letting the liquid slide down his throat without touching his tongue. It helped, but still didn't prevent the shudder that ran down his back when he swallowed. He didn't know how Jin could drink the stuff like water. He thought it was absolutely foul. Zuko screwed his eyes up tightly as he lowered his head, trying to force down the shudder.

"Is there a line at the bar?" Lien leaned sideways to catch a look. "This place isn't too full, shouldn't be a long wait yet."

"Dunno." Jiro finished his drink, setting down the empty vessel with a shrug. He craned his neck to get a better look. "Oh, I see her. _Shit.__" _ He started. "She's talking to Riku."

"Who?" Zuko turned in his chair to get a better look. "Who is that?"

"An ex-boyfriend." Lien bit her lip. "It finished badly... Not surprised Jin didn't say anything to you about it. He was _violent_. She said he didn't touch her, but she hit herself with _something_. I wonder what he wa..." She trailed off as Zuko stood up rather abruptly, marching straight across the bar to the pair. Riku had his head bent towards her a heavy scowl on his face. Jin kept her head erect and chin up in a defiant pride, but her lower lip was trembling almost imperceptibly, and she wrung her hands nervously, blinking rapidly.

"You're a little bitch." He'd grabbed her by the shoulder as she was about to order, pulling her away and turning her to meet him. As soon as Jin realised who it was, something hardened inside her, and she tried to keep her chin as steady as iron, refusing to quake before her latest romantic mistake. "Who do you think you are, leading me on all night and taking my money before running off? Huh?"

"Go away." Jin muttered, pulling her should away, refusing to look at him. "I mean it Riku, I _don__'__t_ want to talk to you. You're a sleaze and an asshole, and you _know_ it."

"Better than a boozehound." He spat, leaning towards her face. "All you're ever interested in is where you're next drink is coming from, and who you'll have to sleep with to get it. You're cheap Jin, and you know it, a cheap slu-"

"Is there a problem here?" Riku was yanked away from the girl by a firm hand. He started, turning on his heel to see Zuko standing very close. Jin's shoulders visibly sagged in relief, but she couldn't shake the deep sense of unease within her. _What__if__Zuko__heard__that?_

"None of your business, mate." Riku shouldered him away, grabbing Jin by the wrist. Zuko was unable to quell the violent trembling in his hands. It was a blessing that he couldn't summon his own fire – he wanted to burn the little shits face off.

"Look_mate._" Zuko grabbed at Riku's shoulder again, pulling him away from the girl. "That's my _girlfriend_ you're manhandling, so back off."

"This?" Riku's eyes widened, lips curling in a smile. "You're dating _this?_ Trust me, you're wasting your time with this cheap slut; she'll sleep with anyone for a drin-"

Zuko promptly punched him in the nose.

Jin gasped, heaving forward as the teen crumpled to the ground, blood gushing from his broken nose, staining his pale green robes and streaming across his face. He wasn't knocked out cold – Zuko could hear him groaning – but he definitely wasn't getting up any time soon. Zuko stepped over him carefully, taking Jin by the elbow. As he turned to leave however, he promptly received a punch in the stomach, reeling back from the force of the blow. Jin screamed, instinctively backing away and trying to hide from a barstool. She recognized the back head and shoulders of the figure – it was one of Riku's cousins, a meathead flunky who spent most of his time beating up people who threatened Riku or spoke dirt on him – and there were a lot. Jin watched silently as Zuko righted himself before the thug could land another blow, sending him crashing to the floor. Zuko sucked in a deep breath, trying to look as though he wasn't in pain. _Wait._ Jin stilled. _There__are__usually__two-_

"Look out!" Jin screamed, but she wasn't fast enough. The wooden barstool splintered as it crashed across Zuko's back, the teen falling stunned to his hands and knees. The young man standing above him tossed the broken furniture to one side, as though it was matchwood. Zuko was still dazed as he was hauled to his feet by the scruff of his neck, and shoved roughly against the bar, but he was able to realise in his foggy brain, that he was being lined up for a broken nose or eyesocket. He brought his knee sharply into the man's groin, giving him a swift uppercut to the jaw. He went down like a sack of bricks, groaning on the floor. The first of the attackers was back on his feet, trying to see through a nasty cut on his forehead. Zuko didn't look good – he moved slowly, still reeling from the two very hard knocks he had suffered at close range, and Riku's cousin managed to sweep Zuko's leg, delivering a swift kick in the side while he was down.

"_Stop_it!" Jin broke through the wide berth of figures watching the attack in shocked silence, hands shaking. It had all only taken a few seconds – Jiro and Lien weren't even aware that anything was happening, and the bartender was yet to get involved – but Zuko was struggling to stand, and she was terrified. Not that he was going to seriously get hurt – she knew him better than that – but that he might lose his head and think there was only one way he could knock them both down.

When she looked back on it later on in the night, Jin realised it was, for her at least, the worst thing she could have done. She should have really left alone. Instead, she fixed both of them to the floor, dragging them down and knocking them out. Jin didn't really comprehend what she'd done at first – it was all a blurry whirl of light and colour – but she blinked and her vision cleared, staring wide-eyed at the two prone figures and the broken, uneven floor. Zuko stood with his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. She locked eyes for just a moment with Riku, who leaned against the bar with a blood-soaked bit of cloth over his nose. He looked at her with an odd mixture of fear and shock. _He__was__afraid__of__her._ It sent an odd rush down her spine. She straightened her back, raising her chin a little in defiance. She had never revealed herself before him, never trusted himself to keep such a secret, even when she herself was on the brink of harm, but now he _knew._ He knew what he'd narrowly avoided; he knew what she could do to him.

"All right, that's _it!__"_ The gaze broke as Jin was grabbed by the elbow. "Both of you, outta here!"

"Hey, get your hands _off_ her." Zuko pushed the bartended away, taking Jin's hand. "We're _going_." Jin trembled as Zuko carefully guided her through the milling crowd. They pressed close together behind them, trying to get a better look at the battered bodies in the floor. She kept her head down, not looking at anyone. She could already picture the shocked looks on their faces; Jin was a popular girl, and knew at least a dozen people in the bar that night. They would all go and tell their friends, and they would tell _their_ friends and the gossip would continue until _everyone_ would gleefully claim that Jin wasn't just a dirt-cheap slut, but a bender too...

She was glad for the cool night air. Jin breathed in deeply, sucking the fresh atmosphere into her lungs as Zuko released his hold on her, standing back a little bit with his arms crossed. He waited until she straightened her neck and opened her eyes before cocking his head to one side, raising his eyebrow.

"What was that?" He sounded almost accusing in the night. Jin wrung her hands again, like she did when Riku was threatening her. Zuko didn't recognise the familiar nervous gesture. "You said no one knew."

"They didn't." Her voice wobbled, threatening to break. "I know it was a mistake but you looked really bad and I was really scared that if they kept going, well..." Jin's voice steadily grew higher and higher in pitch. She broke off, and swallowed, drawing in a long, calming breath before leaning in. "You might... _bend_." Zuko stilled, mouth falling lax in horror as realisation sank in. "A-and, that would be _really_ bad. It doesn't matter about me, it's normal for people like us, but you... They'd lynch you in the streets and it's my fault you got involved. I-I just wanted it to stop getting out of hand." She loosened her hands, and they fell to her sides. "I just wanted it to stop." Zuko's eyes were closed, the teen slowly shaking his head. This _wasn__'__t_happening. He felt sick with guilt. "Are you all right?" Her hand was on the side of his face, the good side. "We should go and get you looked at."

"I'm fine." He ducked his head away, pulse thudding in his throat. He didn't know what to do. _Why__wasn__'__t__I__honest__with__her__from__the__start?_ Why did he listen to his stupid, Agni-damned pride? _What__is__wrong__with__me?_ He couldn't tell her now. He couldn't handle her cold reproach. She'd know that her secret was tossed aside for nothing; he couldn't do that to her. Or himself. "Nothing's broken. I just need some rest." He wasn't badly hurt – he'd probably sport a few bruises tomorrow, but nothing on his face and arms.

"Do you want to go home?" Jin leaned her face against his collarbone, feeling his pulse on her temples. "I don't mind. I don't think I can face anyone tonight. The gossip will spread like a forest fire and everyone will ask if it's true..." She buried his face in his neck. "I don't know how they're going to take it." Zuko wound his arms around her shoulders, resting his chin on her head.

"It'll be fine." He spoke so confidently. "I understand why you kept it a secret, but you don't have to worry about the Dai Li anymore."

"I just hope we're not targeted when the city's invaded." Zuko lifted his head a little. "I've been thinking a little bit about that. They... They don't _do_ things to the benders, do they? You said things would remain the same."

"I did." Zuko's voice was quiet as he remembered the ruins of the offshore prison he'd visited in the south of the Earth Kingdom. He couldn't remember the name or exact place, only that it held every earth bender they could lay their hands on, and was liberated by a much younger Katara. He felt very, very cold. "Even if they did something, nothing is going to happen to you." He tried to keep his voice calm. _I__won__'__t__let__it.__If__anyone__comes__near__her,__I__'__ll__destroy__them.__Bending__or__no._He was going to stay on his toes, keep Jin around him, when It happened.

She wasn't going to pay for his iniquities.

* * *

"_Time is passing."_

_They were two little blots, one dark red, one orange and yellow, on an endless sea of green. Just an everlasting meadow, and a perfectly clear sky, with the sun fixed high in its arc across the atmosphere. _

"_Is it?" Aang looked up at the figure walking alongside him. It felt like they had been walking side-by-side, fixed in conversation, forever. And still, the landscape never changed. The same sky, the same grass, the same sun. He wondered if perhaps it was a small planet, and he had walked all the way around, back to the starting point, or if it was some sort of trick, and the world had frozen around them. They seemed suspended in a moment of time, in an artificial world with no life. No weeds, no birds, no flowers, no insects. Aang even combed through the grass on his hands and knees, looking for them._

"_Not here." Roku cast his arm vaguely around the scenery. "In the physical world. Reality, not the dream inside your head."_

"_How long has it been?" Aang paused in his walking. "It feels like years. Like we've been talking for years. I'm not saying you're boring," He added quickly, "Just that time, if it even exists here, isn't moving."_

"_Within your mind, there is no concept of time. Dreams which appear to last hours take only a few seconds. There is no timepiece to measure the hours. The sun is not moving." Roku had stopped a few paces ahead of his reincarnation. "I have as much knowledge of the outer world as you."_

"_Which is nothing." Aang's head was in his hands. "All I remember is Azula and lightning and things going dark. And waking up here. Whenever that was. And then you finally showing up."_

"_I, like all past Avatars, reside within you, deep in your subconscious. I took the opportunity to finally communicate with you for an extended period of time." Roku walked towards Aang, resting his hand on his shoulder. "But Aang, we have indulged in light chatter long enough. When you wake, I am sure the world will be greatly changed. You will feel as though you have no allies in the world, and you will be unsure of whom to trust. You cannot do this alone. You explained before, that due to your Nomadic teachings, which I have the deepest respect for, you are greatly conflicted with the taking of a life."_

"_I know." Aang sounded miserable. "I know what you're talking about. I have to kill Fire Lord Ozai, but I can't do it. When I realised what I was about to do to Azula, I had such an intense feeling of horror – I can't end any life, even **them**."_

"_But you will not allow your friends to fight alongside you."_

"_Never!" Aang's head snapped up. "This isn't their fight, not like it is mine. I know Sokka says that this is everyone's war, but it's not their responsibility to face Ozai. I can't let them near him. I would rather die in the fight than risk their lives."_

"_Your loyalty is not misguided, Aang." Roku stated simply. "I am not asking you to put them in such a place. No, for history to move forwards, it must, in a sense, repeat itself. You may feel as though no one will stand beside you and face Ozai, but it is not true. My great-grandson walks upon the earth, and already burns with a resolve to end the reign of the Fire Lord."_

"_You have descendents?" Aang blinked, trying to process this information. "Who is he? Where can I find him?"_

"_You have met him already." Roku's lip was twisted in a wry smile. "A long time ag-"_

"He's waking up! Toph, go get Katara _now!__"_

"I'm on it!"

"Aang! Aang, can you hear me? It's Sokka. Aang, keep your eyes open and look at me."

His vision was swimming. Aang was in a numb, suspended state of flux. Mentally, he scrabbled desperately for the dream, his contact with Roku, and tried to focus his sight on the shadowy figure looming over his face. He caught a pair of blue eyes and groaned. The numbness of sleep was lifting; the pain in his chest settling in.

"Aang." Was Sokka crying? "Aang, please, stay awake." Aang turned his head away from the light, groaning. Why was it so damn bright? "Dammit, where's Katara? Aang? Stay with me buddy, okay?" Aang blinked. His chest was on fire, the pain shocking him into a sense of awareness. He tried to sit up, but Sokka pushed gently on his shoulders, coaxing him to lie down. "Don't move, Katara will be here in a moment and she'll – Spirits, there you are."

"_Aang.__"_ Katara clambered on the large bed, embracing the boy as tightly as she dared. "I thought we'd lost you."

"We all thought that." Toph tried to appear nonchalant in the doorway, but her hands and voice were shaking. "Good to have you back."

"You've been out for about a week." Katara sniffed, wiping at her nose. Aang tried to focus on her, but it was hard. How close to death was he? She was struggling to control herself, and Sokka's attempt to comfortingly embrace her seemed ineffectual. "Y-your heart almost stopped a few times and your lung wasn't working, but you..."

"Katara," Sokka leaned in to murmur in her ear. "Is there something you can do? I think he's in a lot of pain."

"I'll try. Can you try and prop him up a bit better?" Aang groaned as another pillow eased under his head, the blankets at his shoulders folded down to his waist. Katara's face reappeared in view, giving him a wobbly smile. She slowly unwound the bandages around his chest, hands trembling. "Aang, just try and relax, and close your eyes." He didn't need to see his own mutilation.

"A-All right." Aang trusted her entirely. He tried to relax, letting his eyes drift close and shoulders lax, keeping his breathing shallow. Each time he sucked air into his lungs, he was met with another burning flood of pain down his torso. "How..." He winced. "How bad is it?"

"Um, not so bad?" Toph rolled her eyes at Katara's obvious lie. "It's just going to take time to heal. Does this feel better?" Aang sighed at the cool sensation of water pressing on his wound. The pain dulled, but didn't entirely subside. But it was soothing; it helped him take deeper breaths.

"Yes." He murmured. Sokka was holding his hand. "Much." He tried again to relax, tried to keep his mind clear. He burned with so many questions. Where were they? What had happened to Azula? Had they won, or were they cast out as fugitives? How did Katara even escape? "I need to ask..."

"If it's about what happened in Ba Sing Se," Sokka replied before Aang could voice his question "It can wait until you're better. You're not hearing anything like this."

"It's bad then." Katara looked up, meeting eyes with her brother.

"Aang, you can't know that, we just don't want-"

"If it was good news, you would tell me now." Aang strained his weak voice, interrupting the girl. "You don't want me to worry, which means we lost." Aang slumped against the pillows. "Roku was right..."

"Roku?" Katara's brow was knitted in a frown. "You spoke to Roku?" Anything that distracted him from the subject of Ba Sing Se. Aang nodded weakly. "What did he say?"

"Lots of stuff." Aang mumbled. He felt so tired. "He told me there was one person who... could defeat Ozai alongside me." He yawned, the effort sending a fresh twinge of pain down his spine.

"Who's that, Aang?" Katara kept her hands steady, concentrating. She tried to create a gentle tidal pull, an ebb and flow that would lull Aang into some much-needed sleep. It looked like it was working.

"His great-grandson." Aang murmured. Sokka cocked his head to one side. "Says we've met before... Don't know his name..."

"Get some sleep Aang." Katara said soothingly, gently moving her fingers. "You have a long road ahead of you. We can talk about Roku and Ba Sing Se tomorrow."

"Mmkay." Aang's head lolled to one side, half-asleep. Katara waited until he had drifted off before lifting his hands away, returning the water to the skin at her waist.

"Great-grandson, huh?" Sokka stared at the wall in thought. He already had an image in his mind of a bending master, a seasoned warrior who would teach Aang the secrets of fire and help them face Ozai. Somebody with an Avatar as an ancestor would _have_ to be a powerful man.

"Let's just concentrate on getting Aang better." Katara was replacing the bandages on his chest. "One thing at a time."

"Yeah, all right." Soka mused. Toph was completely silent.

* * *

"Looks good." Xi Quan peered over Zuko's shoulder, watching him place the type within the adjustable wooden frame. "Nothing backwards. I don't even really need to proof your work now."

"Thanks." Zuko murmured, trying to concentrate on finding the tiles. It was a careful business, making sure every tile was perfect, and he still had to be quick. Xi Quan promised he would pick up the art (if that's what it was called) in a little time. Zuko pressed a slender wedge of lead alongside the row of tiling, trying to centre it. This was for a series of small posters advertising a political rally to take place a week from today. People were taking advantage of their recent freedom, and printers throughout the city were inundated with orders of posters, flyers, and pamphlets. Zuko wondered if it would last – how long would the citizens of Ba Sing Se actually engage in their political freedoms? He was sure most of them would eventually succumb to boredom and apathy, a listless inability to actually deconstruct the social order without compromising their own comforts. Revolution didn't carry the popular opinion as much as historians made out.

Agni, when did he become such a cynical asshole?

Zuko sighed heavily as Xi Quan left the back room to answer the bell at the front entrance, gently wiggling open a stuck drawer, leaning down to look closely at the tiles. He wished he had the freshness and naivety of youth, at least politically. He wished he could be full of radical ideas about toppling old figureheads and establishing a new world order. He wished he was an idealist.

It was hard to be, when he knew the true nature of those in power. Between Long Feng, his father, Azulon and Sozin, it seemed that he couldn't really think of any truly virtuous and good leaders. Zuko felt as though it was completely irrevocable. Even if he managed to take control of the Fire Nation, he wasn't sure he could remain uncorrupted from absolute power. Not when he came from a long line of tyrannical megalomaniacs. He _wanted_ things to change, of course he did, but Zuko just wasn't sure if he was the right person.

If not him, then who?

"Lee!" Zuko jerked his head up from the frame, startled. "Lee, it's for you. It's your girlfriend. You've got time for lunch. Go get some air, but I want you back within an hour." Zuko nodded wordlessly, and headed into the front room, where he saw Jin idly leafing through a pamphlet.

"Hi!" She looked up, and smiled. Jin had changed out of her drab work clothes into her best dress, and carefully tied her hair back. "Ma told me you didn't bring any lunch, so I thought I would come take you out. My treat."

"Oh Jin, you don't have to do that." Zuko felt self-conscious in front of Xi Quan, who tried to look busy amongst a stack of papers. "I was just going to get a messenger-boy to order something in from down the street."

"Oh, come on." She grabbed his wrist. "I'm trying to be _nice_." Jin guided Zuko out of the quiet store, and into the busy street. "What's wrong Lee?" She looked over him as they began to walk. "Something's up."

"I'm working on this flyer for a new political group." Zuko tried to keep his voice low, his hand clasped around Jin's. "Apparently, there's a lot of orders coming in advertising these new groups and meetings." Jin cocked her head to one side. "It just feels futile. Like, no matter what happens, nothing will ever change. You have to be cruel to force others to submit to your rule. There will always be tyrants in power, and any revolution is just an exchange of one faceless figurehead for another, just a shuffle of control at the top. Nothing ever changes for the people."

"Oh." Jin looked thoughtful. They had had a similar conversation before, she remembered, and Zuko's outlook was similarly bleak. "Well... Maybe we just haven't got the right person at the top."

"And I'm the right person?" He looked over at her. Jin swing their bound hands back and forth a little, thinking.

"I think you could be." Jin said seriously. "I think that having these grand ideas about everything that could be changed without a realistic belief in what you can actually do, isn't much better than a tyrant. You're not naive like that."

"But there is such a thing as being _too_cynical." Zuko pointed out. "And... I just look back at everything my ancestors have done, and I feel like I'm trapped, like history is just going to continue repeating itself. I'm stuck in a dynasty, Jin."

"You're not stuck in anything." Jin said. "Lee, you're not _like_ them. You're different. You actually know what's right and wrong, and better, you're prepared to fight for it. You are fighting for it."

"Unsuccessfully." Zuko blew at his bangs. Jin made a sympathetic noise in her throat.

"I don't think the world has ever been through anything quite like this, though." Jin pointed out. "I mean... An entire race has been wiped out, and another is on the brink of extinction. This isn't history repeating itself. You won't find this in any book. And Lee." She stopped in the street. "You can't sit there thinking you _can__'__t_ do anything. You don't know what will happen, and just because your father and grandfather were evil, that doesn't mean you'll turn out the same. People can break away from their families, and turn out totally different." She kissed him. "No more talking about this, okay?"

"All right." Zuko muttered, looking down at the ground. That didn't mean he wouldn't be thinking about it. Psychologically, he was always taking one stop forward and two steps back. But it was hard to be strong in the face of such ravaging insecurities.

"Good." Jin began to talk. "Also, I told a _teeny_ lie. We're not going straight to lunch. I have to stop off on the way at this seamstress's house. Ma got a message while I was work, and she needs me to try it on again, it seems her daughter took out all the pins while she wasn't watching. It's not far, and I won't be long." Zuko mumbled in assent, walking alongside the girl in relative silence. Jin knew that he was brooding, but she let it go. Sometimes, she'd learned, it was just best to let him be.

Besides, she was about to show him something that would change everything. Hopefully. Spirits, what if she was completely mad and the woman had no relation to him? What was she going on here, aside from similar appearance? It was worth a shot. At the worst, it wasn't her, and Zuko would be a little bored whilst waiting for her to try on the dress. It was an easy decision to make.

Jin's heart thudded as she knocked on the door of the narrow townhouse, and she tried to keep her face neutral. But her palms were sweating. She hoped Zuko couldn't feel her clammy hand clasped in his.

"Afternoon." The woman smiled in the doorway, nodding a greeting. "Good Jin, you got my message." Her eyes passed over to Zuko, and she frowned. "Who is this?"

_No. This can't be happening._

"Oh, Ta Min, this is my boyfriend, Lee. We're having lunch somewhere nearby and I thought I would pop in and get this sorted. You don't mind do you?"

Zuko fought a burning ember in his throat, eyes watering. He couldn't hear the gentle banter between the two women – all he heard was an odd ringing in his ears, the thudding rush of his racing heart.

_It__was__his__mother._

There was no mistake. He recognised in an instant the face of the woman talking so easily to Jin on the threshold. Zuko had dreamed of her so often. He wanted to say that she hadn't aged a day, but her hair was longer, there were creases around her eyes that weren't there before, and the gentle downward turn of her lips sagged a little heavier. He longed so much to throw himself in her arms like a child, to have hair stroking his hair, telling him it was fine, and everything would be okay. His chest felt tight. He couldn't breathe.

"Of course not." She was all smiles. Jin couldn't see any recognition on her face. If she knew him, she was bloody good at hiding it. "Come in, my sewing room is upstairs." She turned and walked. Jin made to follow her, but the paused at the tug on her hand. She gasped aloud as she noticed Zuko standing very still. She couldn't say he looked any paler than usual (How could one be lighter than bone-white?), and his mouth was lax. Jin thought there was no reaction, until she noticed the flood of tears pouring down his cheeks.

"Oh Lee." She breathed, taking his other hand. _I__knew__it._ "Come on." Jin pulled him over the threshold, Zuko's movements stiff and mechanical in response. Zuko followed Jin obediently, his eyes fixed on his mothers' retreating form. _How__is__this__happening?_ What was she even doing here? He didn't understand it – she was _gone._ He screwed his eyes closed for a moment, trying to stem the flow of tears. It didn't work.

"I'm really sorry about Suyin, I left your dress on the couch for just a moment, and when I came back, there were pins all over the place." The sewing room was light and airy, with one corner screened off and a naked dressmakers' dummy against one wall. Jin's unpinned dress was sprawled across the table, the gold embroidery glistening in the early afternoon sun.

"It's fine." Jin untied the front of her dress. "I just hope she didn't hurt herself." Zuko wiped surreptitiously at his eyes with the sleeve of his clothing, trying very hard to control himself. "Lee, can you hold this for me?" She pressed her outer dress into Zuko's hands. He nodded dumbly, accepting the fabric as she slid into the half-finished robe. Zuko kept his eyes fixed on Ursa as the clothing was gradually pulled tight, winding the dress over his hands to mask the violent trembling.

When he looked back, it was a miracle that he held his tongue. It took every ounce of his will to linger in the doorway, keeping silent. He was overcome with the juvenile desire to tearfully ask her what she was doing here, where she had been.

_But she didn't recognise him._

Zuko seriously considered if he was mistaken. Perhaps it was just some woman with pale skin and dark hair, and he wanted so much to believe it was her, that he subconsciously willed himself to see his mothers' face. How could she not remember him? Was it the ageing, the scar? Zuko thought the connection between mother and child was unbreakable – if he recognised her in a heartbeat, then why not she him?

Because she hadn't changed. Somewhere in the muddled swamp of his brain, Zuko realised that while eight years had barely touched her, it had left him changed – _scarred_ – beyond recognition. He wasn't the same child who fed turtleducks at the pond, pressed to his mother's side. Her _voice_ was the same, but his had dropped considerably. Sure, he still had a hint of a lisp, but that was hardly unique. Ursa was blissfully unaware that it was her own child standing awkwardly in the doorway of the sunny little room. _It__had__to__be__her._

_Why__didn__'__t__he__run__to__her?_ Why was Zuko so rooted to the floor? Why didn't he proclaim who he was? Why couldn't he call her 'mother'? It wasn't doubt in his mind – the more he watched her, the more he recognised the slight mannerisms belonging only to her. The gentle tune she hummed was familiar, the way she brushed her hair out of her eyes, the almost imperceptible turn of her head as she studied a crease in the fabric – he'd seen it all before. Every few moments, Jin would turn to look at him, giving him some sort of sympathetic smile. Not of concern, not wondering, _why__is__he__reacting__like__this?_ But more of a consolatory observation, _he__'__s__taking__things__terribly._

Finally, Jin was asking for her dress back. Zuko handed over the cloth automatically, staring dead-eyed at her hands. He'd dried up, shrivelled in on himself. He felt exhausted and withered.

"It will only take a few more days." Ursa's voice broke Zuko's gaze. Jin tied the front of her dress, smiling. "I'm sorry you had to come back."

"It's no trouble." Jin took Zuko's hand, starting to lead him out of the room. "We'll show ourselves out, we know the way. Thank you so much Ta Min, I hope it's not too much trouble for you."

"Not at all." Zuko's stomach lurched at her smile. "It's nice to have something to keep my hands busy, especially now the children sleep regular hours." _Children?__What__children?_Zuko felt sick. "You two take care."

"We will." Jin bowed a goodbye, turning to the door. Zuko still hadn't said a word. She tugged on his hand gently, trying to coax him out of the room, but he was still rooted to the ground. Jin stilled, wondering what was going through Zuko's mind. His breathing quickened into shallow gasps. He wasn't going to leave her. He _couldn__'__t_. _She__had__to__know__who__he__was._His voice broke as he tried to speak, knees on the point of collapse.

"_Mum.__"_

Jin had a few ideas of what might happen if they recognised each other. He might get angry with her for leaving, she could claim that he had it wrong, in a final effort to conceal herself, or berate him for what could be seen as his failures. She'd hoped it wouldn't go wrong – that they would hug each other and cry and just be happy with one another. Ursa was staring at Zuko with a mixture of shock and horror on her face, hands covering her mouth. She was staring at his scar. Zuko's heart thudded in his chest like nothing else. He was sure others could hear it.

"Zuko..?" She didn't want to believe it. Zuko's sweaty grip tightened on Jin's hand, the girl wincing from crushed fingers. "It... How... Oh _baby.__"_ Ursa almost sank to her knees as she took Zuko in her arms, utterly overwhelmed. Zuko felt the warm trickle of water behind his good ear, down his neck. Jin stepped out of the sewing room quietly, closing the door behind her. Of course she was happy for Zuko. It was obvious he'd suffered, and she'd do anything she could to help him, unconditionally. Yet she felt a small seed or resentment swelling within her chest. It sickened her. But she still had a burning question in her mind, which hung there, unanswered.

_Why did she leave him?_

* * *

"Princess Azula."

Her eyes snapped open. She forced herself to resume her straight, regal posture, lifting her chin. The Dai Li agent sank to his knees before her, eyes fixed on the floor. Sitting cross-legged on the floor at her right, Ty Lee slowly rose to her feet.

"Yes?" Azula demanded imperiously, making sure to keep a snarl on her lips and in her voice.

"We have received a message from the Dai Li at the outer wall. The Fire Nation forces have entered the hinterlands of Ba Sing Se. They shall arrive here in the mid-afternoon."

"Excellent. As soon as they are in sight, bring the Inner Wall down." Azula watched the man leave, sagging her shoulders as soon as she knew the pair were alone.

"You shouldn't sit like that." Ty Lee perched on the arm of the golden throne. "Not if it hurts. Are you sure there's nothing they can do Azula? You look in a lot of pain."

"I will be fine." Azula snarled, rising to her feet. "The bruising will go down in a few days, and everything will be as it was." Ty Lee kept quiet. "This is no time to be idle. Even if they are greatly outnumbered, the citizens of Ba Sing Se may attempt an uprising. We must remain on our toes." She stepped down from the dais, forcing down a cry of pain. "Find Mai, will you? I want this to go perfectly."

"Yes, Azula." Did she really think Ty Lee to be a fool? Did she think that the girl couldn't see the pain she was in? There was no shame in admitting a wound. Even if it was by a peasant. Even for a Princess.

But there was no helping Azula. And Ty Lee had _tried._ She knew better than anyone the young Princess's insecurities, but any advice she offered came out as inadequate, disingenuous, to the both of them. She didn't know if there was anything she _could_ say. She could never tell Azula that her father was insane and Azula should stop jumping through hoops for him. Not to her face.

Ty Lee knew that it was fear that kept Azula quiet. Fear that her father would hear about how she was knocked down and injured by a peasant, of all people. He would say she was weak. He would shame and humiliate her, like he did Zuko. Azula walked on a pane of glass that was struggling to support her. Ty Lee could see that she was struggling to maintain the image of perfection in the face of what had happened. But her own position was tenuous. She wasn't an advisor, a source of wisdom. Azula _listened_ to her, on the rare occasion she said something, because that's what it was, rare. She would never provoke the young Princess to anger. And telling Azula that she was falling into a hole would make her very, very angry.

She was overreacting. Everything was fine. Azula wasn't badly injured, the Avatar was truly defeated, Ba Sing Se would be secure, and soon they would all be home again.

Ty Lee wouldn't have convinced a child.

* * *

I know there's going to be a bunch of people saying "wtf why would Ursa be in Ba Sing Se?" but think about it. It got absolutely FULL of refugees fleeing from all over the country, and she sure wouldn't stay in her home nation. It's the perfect place for someone to ignore their past and try begin a new life (as Zuko and Iroh attempted to do). If you had to hide, a city filled with millions of people is more 'hidden' than the most isolated mountain hut. And a reunion between the pair may not necessarily have positive ramifications. I said 'may'.


	25. Chapter 25

Fwoa. I actually did this in less than a month. Badass.

Amazing what you can do when there's no university LOL

Disclaimer: I own nothing of course. Don't know why I still say that. Force of habit, really.

* * *

"When did this _happen?"_

She was touching his scar. Zuko pulled away from her hand, trying self-consciously to hide his face behind his tattered mane of black hair. He unwound himself from her embrace, face flushed. Zuko ran his hands through his hair, unable to look her in the eye. He leaned against the spindly work-table. She may as well have punched him in the stomach. Zuko felt in pain. _She didn't know a thing._ His chest felt oddly tight, and he struggled to breathe. She had no idea what had happened to him. She didn't know what his father had done. A small noise escaped from Ursa's throat, and she wrapped one arm around his shoulder, and with the other, gently guided his chin, encouraging her son to look her in the eye.

"Please tell me."

"I'm surprised you didn't hear." Zuko pulled his face away, feeling short of breath. "I-I mean... People have to know, they can't all be ignorant." He looked down at his hands. So she just thought he would somehow get by? She knew what he was like, how could she not see it coming? He was indignant. He'd tried to reason with himself – many times, of why she left him and what might have happened, but although he'd never come up with a reason, the hopeless yearning to see her again snuffed out any embers of resentment. Now that he saw her with his own eyes, they started to smoulder. "You never asked anyone?"

"No one knows anything in this city." Ursa still dabbed at her eyes. She wasn't one for theatrics and sobbing; she let the tears flow silently, dampening the front of her clothes. Zuko clenched his hands into fists. That wasn't true. Jin knew. She found things out, by asking. His mother could have _always_ asked someone something. Did she just assume Zuko would be fine? "I never heard a thing... I thought you were with your father."

"That was a mistake." Zuko rose to his feet. He felt angry, _so_ angry. How could the relief and shock and overwhelming joy dissolve into anger so quickly? _What was wrong with him?_ What was wrong with _her?_ How could she leave him with that monster?

"What do you mean?" Ursa's voice was very small. "He _promised_ he wouldn't let anything ha-"

"And you _trusted_ him?" Zuko's voice was slowly rising. He was burning with rage, as the bitterness he'd ignored for years caught alight. On the other side of the door, Jin tensed. "He was going to kill me and you _left_ me with him!"

"It was for your safety, I had no-"

"_What safety!"_ Zuko kicked at the chair. Ursa was silent against the table, her lower lip quivering. "I was never safe with him!" He sank into the chair, violently trembling. His hands were very hot, and his face was flushed. He was angry at her – but angrier at _him. _Once again, Zuko was forced to consider the extent of his father's atrocities, and he had to tell her. _How could she not know what had happened to him?_

"What _happened?"_ Ursa's voice broke; she was losing control. Zuko's head sank into his hands. She crouched down before him, taking his hands and tugging them away. Zuko's good eye was red.

"Who do you think did this?" His voice was a hollow whisper. Ursa's hands dropped, and she fell onto her knees. No. _How could he?_ Ursa shook her head with a low moan, welling with horror. She knew Zuko wouldn't be as happy with him, but she _never _expected this. "Are you _surprised?" _ Zuko sounded cold and bitter. He no longer wanted to throw himself into her arms. He watched her screw her face up tight and bury herself in her hands, shaking her head. He felt oddly removed from the woman crying on the floor at his feet. Disgust welled in his stomach at the sight. "I'm banished. I'm wanted. I'm a traitor and a failure." His stinging words were like acid. He spat them out behind clenched teeth. "If you tried to _save_ me from him, it failed."

"I-I thought Iroh would p-protect you." Ursa didn't know how else to react to this – she had crumpled into herself.

"Well, he didn't." Zuko regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. They made his Uncle look like a traitor, when in reality, he had saved his life. But hot anger burned in his stomach and he had to take it out on _someone_. Zuko rose to his feet, turning away from his mother. He blinked rapidly, trying to keep his vision clear. "I'm going." Ursa let out a cry as Zuko approached the door, clumsily hauling herself up by her stool.

"Zuko _don't."_ Despite her fragile appearance, Ursa was as hard as steel. But Zuko's resentful words tore off her hard shell, digging into the soft pulpy mess of her heart. The child she'd held and loved and sacrificed life seemed gone forever. How could this cold, bitter young man be her _son? _He was twisted and cruel. After his initial tears, he'd dried out and hardened himself against her. "I... I did _everything_ I could..." Her pleading sounded pathetic even to her own ears. How could she put it into coherent words? She could never make him understand. Ursa instead wrapped her son in a fierce embrace, hoping she could comfort him. But it was ineffectual; he was rigid and unyielding against her, putting up with the treatment for just a few seconds before pulling away, staring down at his feet.

"Stop it." Zuko folded his arms. Ursa stepped back, sinking down into the stool. He pulled the door open, and left the room without another word. He couldn't talk to her. He didn't have anything to say, he didn't know what to do. Zuko left before his words could hurt her anymore, before he said something he regretted, turned over a stone that was best left alone. He walked blindly down the stairs, breathing rapidly. He felt as though he was suffocating. Halfway down the staircase, Zuko stilled, leaning heavily against the wall. He was light-headed, bus his limbs heavy and dead. He slid down onto the stairs with his eyes closed, head in his hands.

"Give it some time." Zuko's head snapped up. Their eyes met. Jin leaned against the banister, facing him with a small smile on her face. "She's got a lot to deal with, too. Her kid is suddenly grown up and she doesn't like what she sees."

"I didn't mean to yell at her." Zuko spoke very quietly. He didn't see Ursa standing at the head of the stairs. "I don't know what happened. I just had this _rage. _I know she had no choice, but I still feel like she abandoned me." The moment they had locked their gaze, Zuko knew that he wasn't going to hide a thing from her. He couldn't afford to. "I would have been better off with her instead of being with Dad."

"So that's what made you angry." Jin murmured thoughtfully. "I don't know why she left, but she _must_ have had some reasons. No mother would just leave their children. Not without an explanation." No mother worth their salt, at least.

"She killed the old Fire Lord, Azulon." Zuko said very softly. Jin stilled. "Staying would have sealed her death." Jin let out long sigh, chewing on her thumbnail. Committing _murder_, that was serious. Ursa pressed her lips together, trying to muffle a tiny noise in her throat. "But I could have gone too... I would have been so much happier with her..." He closed his eyes, shaking his head. It was difficult to think about; the 'what if'.

"Come on." Jin eventually leaned forward, taking his hands. Zuko willingly allowed himself to be hauled to his feet. Ursa lurched forward unsteadily, wanting nothing more than to run down the stairs and pull him back. But she restrained herself, leaning against the wall as she watched her son being led down the stairs by the hand. Ursa raised a trembling hand to her face, trying to wipe the tears from her cheeks. She felt as though she'd suffered a physical blow. The precious image she'd maintained of her child was just a mask, broken and scattered at her feet. The teenage boy who walked down the hall seemed alien to her – no. He didn't. She'd seen that blind rage many times before. In Ozai. Zuko was turning into _him_. The idea sent an icy shiver down her back, made her feel sick. The damage had been done, and he felt lost to her.

But she wouldn't give up – she could _never_ give up. The bond she'd severed between them would be repaired. Somehow. This was a day she'd both longed for and dreaded for years. Of course Zuko would be mad at her; he had every right, after what she had done. In his eyes, she'd left him with a sadist who tortured and outcasted him, while she enjoyed safety and serenity. How could she explain things to him? Even if she told him everything, her vision, her secret vow, it would be cold comfort to the boy who felt abandoned by his mother. Zuko wouldn't listen to her, not now.

No. Ursa walked slowly down the stairs, watching the pair leave the house silently. She leaned against the wall, trying to control the nausea rising in her stomach. She couldn't breathe. There was nothing in that bitter young man that resembled the child she used to sing to sleep. Ursa had given _everything_ to save the life of her child.

And it seemed to her, that child was already dead.

* * *

"Are you thirsty?"

Aang jerked out of his torpor, finding Katara hovering over the bed with a cup of warm tea. He wasn't thirsty, but he accepted the drink, warming his hands on the smooth ceramic surface. He knew it was laced with every kind of painkiller and sleep-aid that Katara could get her hands on, and he drank it gratefully. The dull throbbing of his chest was already starting to sharpen.

"How long was I asleep for?" Aang asked weakly, taking a cautious sip. The tea was horribly bitter, sending a shiver of disgust down his spine.

"A good while." Katara sat down on the edge of the bed. "The rest of the night and all morning." She pressed a hand on his shoulder as he tried to sit up. "Relax."

"It's tomorrow then." Aang drank the rest of the tea. "What happened?" He didn't feel stronger after the sleep, but he felt more lucid and coherent. "Is everyone all right?"

"We're all fine." Katara spread her hands out on her lap, staring down at her fingers. She needed more sea-weed lotion, her knuckles were drying out. "I was broken out of the cell and we managed to get everyone and get out, but Azula held the castle. The city is probably invaded by now." Katara's words came out in a tumbled rush. There wasn't anything more that needed to be said, really. As far as she was concerned, the story was told. There was no need to elaborate on the 'we'. Aang didn't see things that way, of course.

"Who broke you out?" He tried to pull himself up a little farther. "Was it Sokka and Toph?" Katara shook her head slowly, looking down at her hands. "Who then?"

"... It was Zuko." Katara's hands were balled into fists. Aang stilled.

"How?" Aang was shocked, angry, and most of all, jealous. He couldn't stand the idea of Zuko stepping up when he, Aang, had failed. Of him sweeping in and saving Katara. Was that selfish? Of course it was. Why couldn't he just be relieved that Katara was okay? Why did he have to feel like _this?_ Aang blinked rapidly, his vision starting to swim. The drugs in his tea were starting to take effect, quickly.

"He was looking for someone else." Katara murmured. "Dumb luck, I guess. Or fate." Aang groaned, his eyes closing. There was no such thing as luck. Damn. If the Spirits _had_ to intervene, why did they choose Zuko? Why not someone, anyone else? It was all a matter of human will. Roku himself had said it was the only thing the Spirits could not directly control. They could move the mountains and drain the oceans, could part the skies and bring whole cities to rubble, but the human heart held a clandestine inviolability. They could not touch it. Aang wasn't quite sure what to think. He would never dare to guess – or question – their motives. But he was still confused. _Why?_

"What happened to him?" Aang said weakly. Kara sighed deeply, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

"We fought." She stared at the wall. "Physically." Aang made a small noise. "I'm okay," She added quickly, "But we knew we couldn't trust him then. He can't control himself, he's just not safe." Katara bit her lip. "But at the same time, he declares he's on our side. And I think he's trying to be. He's resolved to fight Ozai."

"But you don't trust him?" Aang was tense. Katara shook her head.

"No. Never." Aang visibly sagged in relief. "Not after that. He can try and say he's good until he's blue in the face but I don't think he'll ever be one of us." She looked over at Aang, whose eyes had widened. "What?"

"Just thinking..." He slumped against the pillow, closing his eyes. "So he's resolved then?"

"Until he slips." Katara pulled the blankets up to Aang's chin. He was sinking into a deep, drugged sleep. Aang sighed softly. "Get some sleep."

"Mmkay." Aang mumbled, turning over a little. Katara crawled up to the head of the bed, leaning against the wall. She left one hand on the side of his face, gently stroking his cheek, listening to his slowly lengthening breaths.

_Until he slips._ It sounded so dismissive, so judgemental and cruel. Katara rested her head in her hands, sighing. She felt tired and cold. The metal room seemed like a tomb to her, gently rocking on the waves. After what felt a long time, Katara pulled off her shoes and left them askew on the floor. She crawled into the spare half of the bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin and staring at the ceiling. Katara closed her eyes. She didn't want to sleep – she just wanted to curl up under the sheets like a child and hide from the world. The little room was lonely, and aside from Aang's strained breathing, utterly silent. She turned on to her side, facing Aang quietly. He looked almost peaceful under the sheets. One hand slid through the covers, finding his. She squeezed his fingers tightly, rubbing quickly at her eyes with the other.

"I won't let this happen again." Katara promised in the dimly-lit room. Her voice trembled. "I swear Aang, I'll protect you with my life. Nothing will ever stop me." She didn't realise it was the bond between the pair that almost destroyed him. Aang would never tell her. Just as she would never tell him about how she lost her necklace. Katara shifted a little closer to the sleeping youth, resting her head on his pillow. She could feel his warmth, and smell his toxic, herb-laden breath. Katara tightened her grip on Aang's hand, weaving their fingers together. He seemed much older in the bad light. Already, his hair had grown, although it was short and bristly. She smiled a little as she watched him sleep. Something pulled deep within her, an inner tide, circling in her stomach. She tried to ignore the sensation, instead resting her head on his shoulder. Katara told herself it was so she could hear his heartbeat.

It was funny, how the possibility of loss can shock the senses into realisation. Two weeks ago, Katara would have said Aang was her best friend, that she would do her best to stand by him. That she loved him like a brother. But as she lay beside him, with his heartbeat resonating in her ears, she realised already, that things weren't the same. Something had changed.

But she didn't _quite_ know what.

* * *

Zuko and Jin didn't notice the rumbling as they walked down the street.

She'd come over again as he'd finished work, wanting to walk him home. He didn't understand quite why she wanted to shadow him like this, but he accepted it gratefully. It seemed comforting. He'd spent the rest of his shift mechanically laying tiles, replaying the ugly scene in his head, over and over again. He'd lost control, fallen into one of his familiar fits of rage, and he'd hurt her. He wanted to go back immediately, to apologise and beg for her forgiveness. But at the same time, he was overcome with a resentment and revulsion. While his mother couldn't understand how her son had changed so much, Zuko struggled to reconcile the image of his mother who held him and chased away his fears with the tearful woman on the floor. It seemed completely foreign.

"Let's have a drink before home." Jin stopped in the street, gently tugging Zuko into a little hole-in-the wall tea-shop. She guessed rightly that he didn't want to go home yet, to remain a quiet fixture in the corner amongst the bright chatter of her brothers, retiring early for a restless, fitful sleep. "Sit down and I'll get us something. No Jasmine." Zuko nodded silently, sinking into the closest chair he could find, staring down at his hands. He felt disgusted not only with his mother, but also with himself. How could he shout at her like that? How could he _blame_ her for something beyond her control?

But was it really? Zuko was forced to consider things, again. And, once more, he wondered what may have happened if Ursa had taken him with him. He would have grown up here, from a child. He would have long-standing friends and relationships. He would have been utterly assimilated into their culture. Prince Zuko would be well and truly dead.

It sounded _perfect._ Zuko leaned back, closing his eyes. Imagine. He wouldn't have suffered. He would be poor, and nameless, but he would be whole, physically and emotionally. He wouldn't have a constant, painful reminder of his own failure. Small children wouldn't shy away from him in the street. Strangers wouldn't double-take and young men and women wouldn't whisper behind their hands, with darting glances.

His heart ached.

He put his head on the table, arms folded. He honestly wanted to cry. It wasn't damn _fair._ He wasn't Prince Zuko, and he wasn't Lee either. He was stuck in limbo, in an identity crisis and he wasn't sure which one he wanted to be.

That was a lie. He knew who he _wanted_ to be, but it wasn't who he _could_ be.

His mother sacrificed everything she had for him, her lifestyle, her marriage, her children, and he'd thrown it in her face. What did she murder for? Zuko tried to imagine the world without him. If Azulon was alive and Iroh next in line. He couldn't remember much of his grandfather. Surely, he wasn't as bad as Ozai?

_Don't be an idiot. He ordered his own son to kill you. He would have been worse._ Zuko let out a low moan. His head hurt. He honestly didn't know if he could really distinguish the lesser of two evils. He knew though, that he wasn't one of them.

Was that why he failed as Prince Zuko?

"Watch out." Zuko's head snapped up. Jin held the tray herself, setting it down and pouring him a steaming cup of lychee tea.

"Drink some." She begged, pushing a cup towards him. "You'll feel better, I promise."

"I can't." Zuko folded his arms. "I just... I can't stop thinking about it all. How could I shout like that? She's my _mother. _We're not meant to fight. I would have hurt her so much..."

"You're kidding, right?" Jin set down her teacup. "I fight with Ma all the time. Lee, you're not a kid anymore. You have different ideas. Even if she had never left, you'd still argue with her. It's what teenagers do. All of them."

"You don't understand, she's different." Zuko said quietly. "I don't know why, but I was everything to her. I was her world."

"'Course you were, you were her first. And a boy." Jin tried to be practical. "Ma feels the same way about Meng. She's got four other kids, but the way she used to go on about him, you wouldn't know it. He was the smartest, the bravest, the strongest, the most polite. It's why she fell apart after he left." She held his hand on the table. "Don't think too much about what could have been, Lee. You'll drive yourself crazy. She's not going to hate you for this. Tomorrow, we'll go back and talk to her. Everything will be fine." Zuko forced a tiny, fake smile, but before he could utter a word, the pair were rudely jerked into awareness by a shout.

"The wall!" Jin and Zuko started, turning towards the doorway. A small child jumped up and down, screaming excitedly. "The wall came down!"

Their eyes met across the table. Ursa was instantly forgotten. Hand-in-hand, Jin and Zuko pushed their way out the door and into the street, craning their necks and trying to see.

"I can't see a thing." Jin jumped up and down, trying to catch a glimpse. The street was quickly becoming very crowded. "Can you give me a boost?"

"I can do better." Zuko eyed the front of the tea house. There was a stack of crates and a splintered broom handle against the wall. Enough for him. Zuko climbed the crates and used the handle to hoist himself up to the roof of the building, stretching out his arm to offer Jin a boost. But she climbed up herself, with an easy strength and agility from a lifetime of scaling walls and jumping across roofs. "You all right?"

"Fine." Jin balanced herself easily on the slanted roof, looking in the direction of the Wall. Sure enough, there was a wide gap where the gates used to be. They weren't just open, they were _gone._ Jin instinctively gripped Zuko's hand, shrinking into him. He wrapped an arm around her side, dread gathering in the pit of his stomach. "It's happening, isn't it."

"Looks like it." They were both high up enough to see the tanks. They looked like metallic black beetles at the distance, beetles that rumbled and belched clouds of black smoke. Jin didn't like to look at them. Zuko closed his eyes.

"We should get out of here." He said quietly. Jin gulped. "I'll take you home."

"No, _we'll_ go home." Jin said firmly. "What are you going to do, stand in the street and refuse to let them pass?"

"No." Zuko was watching the procession silently, the horror growing. How big was the army?

"You're staying at our house, where it's safe." Jin was resolute. "I'm not having you be some sort of hero."

"All right." Zuko wasn't going to argue – he felt oddly hollow. "Come on, let's go before they come." He turned to go back the way he came, but Jin was scanning the rooftops, thinking.

"This way." She faced another direction. "This street of houses are all terraced, it'll be faster than the packed street." Zuko followed obediently, trusting her. If there was anything Jin knew better than him, it was how to negotiate the streets of Ba Sing Se. She led him across the roofs, across a short alleyway jump, along a precariously thin boardwalk, down three narrow side-streets that were largely silent, and into a familiar main street that was considerably fuller than usual. People were muttering amongst themselves, craning their necks in an attempt to see what was going on. They refused to believe the rumours. Not until they saw them with their own eyes. Jin and Zuko pushed and elbowed their way through until finally, they were ascending the brittle, narrow staircase. Jin's heart thudded as she pushed open the door. Her mother was bent over a torn shirt, alone in the room.

"Where is everyone?" Jin's voice rose in alarm. Shan looked up, startled. "Where Dad? And Jiro and Meng and Hai and Chang? Where are they all?"

"Where do you think?" Shan set her needlework aside. "Work, mostly. Meng went to see his friends and Chang is playing with some of his cousins. Jin, what's wrong? You look terrible." Jin's knees felt weak. "Jin?"

"Oh Ma." Jin was near tears. Zuko quietly made his way into the bedroom. His Dao swords hung over the bedpost, freshly cleaned and polished. He shouldn't have left them at home in the first place. He pressed his thumb against the blade, checking their sharpness, and slung them at his waist. When he came back into the front room, Jin was pacing back and forth with her fingers in her hair, swearing.

"Your father and elder brothers will be fine." Zuko kept his voice calm. "But I'll get the kids. Hai will still be at work or on his way home. Shan, where do you think Chang will be?"

"Probably at the Fountain, he loves playing in water on days like this." Shan's hands were trembling. "Jin just told me... Is it true?"

"I'm going with you." Jin grabbed Zuko's wrist. "I-I can't just sit here Lee, what if they-"

"You're not going anywhere." Zuko gently eased himself free. "Stay inside. They shouldn't touch you, but if they're rounding people up, then go through your room and hide on the rooftops." Jin was shaking her head in protest. "_Yes_ Jin. Look, I'll be faster by myself. I'm not going to run into any trouble. I'll just find them and come back here." Jin's hold on Zuko's wrist didn't slacken. She refused to let him go on his own.

But at the same time, she was scared. The thought of going near those lines and lines of soldiers with their tanks and machines left her cold and sick. Jin was consumed with a paralytic fear at the thought of it. She knew, in her heart, that she couldn't do it. If she ran in to them, she would freeze up. Since her encounter with Azula, Jin had been badly rattled. She had learned the uncomfortable truth that, when it came down to the wire, she wasn't as brave as she thought she was. Not in front of the Fire Nation. She didn't want to fight. She just wanted to keep her head down and remain quiet.

So she backed down. Her fingers fell lax at her side, and with pursed lips, she let him go. Jin stood silently in the middle of the room as Zuko pressed his lips to her cheek for just a moment, and hurriedly pushed his way out of the apartment. She felt deflated and weak, sinking into the stoveside chair with a long sigh.

Zuko didn't feel all much better. He tried to keep himself as emotionless and sterile as he could as he pushed his way through the streets, but his heart was pounding. It had finally come down to this. He had been mentally preparing himself for this, for weeks. But it was hard. It didn't really hit him, just how big it all was, until he saw them pouring in through the broken gates like ants. He realised, as he caught the terrified faces of the people around him, just how unprepared the city was. They had never faced the War before, save for the refugees. They had no idea just what would happen. They couldn't even comprehend the atrocities that the Fire Nation was capable of. Even the refugees hadn't seen the worst possibility. They had been spared the systematic domination and destruction in the small villages and towns. Zuko had said that Ba Sing Se would remain intact, that there was no economic reason to destroy a city so large and profitable. But in his mind, he knew that it was false, hollow reasoning. When had the Fire Nation put economic need first? If Ozai, or whatever puppet he put on the Earth King's throne, saw fit to burn the city to the ground, he would do it, without thought.

Zuko thought briefly about leaving. Surely, there would have to be a small coastal town, somewhere, where the shadow of the Fire Nation hadn't tainted the ground. Some forgotten little mountain hamlet filled with hapless innocents who hadn't even heard of a War.

If there was, Zuko realised, its days were numbered. There wasn't any more running, or hiding, that he could do. The net was closing. The oases of peace and serenity were drying up. Zuko had to try and maintain a safety in anonymity, by remaining one of the herd. Surely, if he kept himself out of the worst of it, they wouldn't touch them. There were over a million people in the city, and the Fire Nation couldn't slaughter them all.

But it wasn't just him.

Zuko stood in the square of the Firelight Fountain silently, his stomach contorted and tense. He was watching the small knot of children pushing each other over in the water, splashing and shouting and laughing. He caught Chang, smaller and thinner than the rest, but screaming the loudest. So fragile. His bones seemed as brittle as glass. What would it take to kill such a small child? Nothing. The flick of a wrist. His neck could be broken with one hand. Was Zuko really that tiny and flimsy once? It seemed so impossible.

"Chang!" Zuko raised his voice, approaching the splashing children. How could they not be freezing? The sun was dying on the horizon, no longer casting light on the water. "Chang, get your clothes on, we're going." Loud whining and groans of disapproval met his ears. There were five other children, three boys and two girls. All stripped to their underclothes and soaking wet, as fragile and insignificant as saplings. None of them would ever stand a chance. Chang pulled himself out of the water, grumbling. He had no idea what was happening, just a few blocks away. Nobody did.

He couldn't leave them. Zuko watched them all play with a rising horror; their naivety and frailty would kill them. He had to escort them home to the safety of their mothers' arms. Even if it was a deceptive, false safety, it was better than being naked and exposed.

"All right, all of you!" Zuko rose his voice to a shout. "Everyone get out, you're all going home, now!"

"Aw, what? No fair! You can't do that!" He took the verbal assaults silently. Chang stood quietly on the cobblestones with his shirt in his hands.

"Come on!" Zuko approached the fountain, grabbing the arm of the first child within reach. "Quickly!" The children grumbled, but they were obedient. Most had no idea who the stranger was, but they respected their elders without question and Chang at least knew him. Grudgingly, the five children dragged themselves out of the water, peeling their clothes on over dripping skin; spare towels were a luxury little could afford.

"What's going on?" Chang's peaky little face turn up towards Zuko. "Where's Mama?"

"She's at home." Zuko took Chang's hand. "Everyone will be at home when we get back. There's some things going on at the moment, it's not safe outside, so I'm going to take everyone home."

"What's going on?" Chang inquired. There was a certain firmness in his tone, and Zuko knew he wasn't going to be able to fob him off with any lies. What was the point in lying? They would all see, soon enough.

"There's some Fire Nation soldiers on the streets." Zuko spoke quietly. He didn't want to explain these things to a child, but there was no way that he could keep silent. It was impossible to protect Chang from something that he would have to face, and so soon. "So we have to go home where they can't come in."

"What?" One of the other children pulled at Zuko's sleeve. "Did you say Fire Nation?"

"... I did." Zuko kept his voice low and even. There was a shout, a hubbub of discontent amongst the children. One of them began to cry. "Look, everyone needs to stay calm. I want all of you to hold hands." He took the hand of Chang and the crying girl. "I promise, nothing is going to happen to you. Now, who lives the closest to here?"

"Li Mei does." Chang spoke up. "That way."

"All right." Zuko walked as quickly as he could out of the square, with the little tribe of small children firmly in tow. As he predicted, the mothers were overjoyed to see their little angels protected and safe. The first woman had no idea what had happened, and it was only after Zuko hurriedly explained the invasion when she wrung her hands, worrying tearfully about her three other children. Zuko couldn't help her any more though, and he regretfully left her with her youngest daughter, keeping to the side streets and the lengthening shadows. The second mother took two of the boys, embracing Zuko for an embarrassing moment and inviting him in for safety as it was getting dark. Zuko declined, saying he had to get back.

He should have taken the offer.

The third mother was in fact a father, who shook Zuko's hand firmly, saying his niece had made a fine choice and he was a fine figure of a young man and his nephews could learn a thing or two from him. The fourth mother tearfully said Zuko was a blessed young man as she held her crying daughter, offering a hot meal and her home as shelter. He declined again. Zuko was finally left with Chang almost half a mile from home, and a beckoning twilight – and no idea of where he was.

That was a lie. He knew his whereabouts – but only on the main roads. He couldn't venture into the side-streets and back alleys here, not without walking into a blind alley or getting cornered by a gang of thugs. He had no option but to hoist Chang in his arms and walk smack bang into the main street – and the martial procession.

Chang was very, very quiet in his arms. Zuko could feel his little limbs trembling, and he murmured a soft word of comfort in his ear before he slowly made his way along the street. It was the tail-end of the convoy that made their way past Zuko, who remained one of the only people on the street. As soon as they could, the people of Ba Sing Se fled indoors, shutting themselves away from the invasion and the grey light. The soldiers marched four abreast, backs straight and faces outward. Zuko kept his eyes fixated on the ground, heart thudding in his chest. He positioned his hair carefully, covering as much of his scar as he could, but he was still scared. It would be the worst thing imaginable; to be recognised _now_, and turned over to Azula after affirming his status as a full-blown traitor, would seal his fate. He had fought so _hard_ to gain this ragged little scrap of freedom, and he would die before he let it go.

That could still happen.

Zuko's blood pulsed in his temples, a sick nausea rising in his stomach. The street, although a main walkway, wasn't wide, and Zuko crept as close to the wall as he could, but he was still far too close to the soldiers for his own comfort. He could feel their body heat (they must have been fire benders), and heard their breaths under the monotonous stamp of hundreds of boots striking the cobblestones in unison. Zuko closed his eyes for a moment, taking a long, deep breath, trying to quell the nerves in his stomach. It was a mistake. He walked into one of the soldiers in his moment of blindness – not head-on, but he cuffed him on the shoulder. It was enough for the soldier to stop short in his walk, and round on him.

"I'm sorry!" Zuko held Chang tightly, backed against the wall. "I wasn't looking, I'm so sorry-"

"You watch where you're going." The soldier wore one an iron mask over his face, concealing his features. He leaned in closer, and his hands crackled with fire, in an attempt to be menacing. Zuko's face was very close to the flames, the golden light illuminating his face. The surrounding men in earshot stopped short in their march at the sign of trouble. The soldier regarding Zuko let out a sharp gasp of recognition, taking a step back. Zuko's heart dropped like a stone.

"Pri-" He never got to finish the word. It was a subconscious reflect, a quick mental burst, which drove Zuko to draw one of the swords at his waist, and in the same stroke, drive the blade across the man's unarmoured neck. Blood spurted along Zuko's arm, splattering black against his clothes. The helmet clinked against the ground as it fell, rolling into Zuko's feet. Chang screamed, watching as the decapitated body balanced for a half-moment, as though suspended, and pitched forward slowly. Zuko didn't wait to see the corpse fall to the ground. He tore off, ducking down the first street he could find. He heard shouting behind him, the sound of running. _Cut him off! Use your spears!_ _Get that filth!_ With his sword drawn before him, Zuko made his way through the narrow, winding maze, getting more and more lost. But he was faster than the soldiers, weighed down by their heavy, ceremonial iron, and he had more skill in negotiating the seemingly endless maze of Ba Sing Se, even if he had no idea where he was. But he knew he could never outrun them, not in the end. Eventually, he would run into a dead end or another procession, and he would be trapped. He wasn't going to let himself be cornered. It wasn't the time for a last stand. So, the moment Zuko was sure that he was out of their immediate line of sight, he flung himself into an extremely narrow lane, one backed by a long row of ugly terraced houses that stank of rotting food. Zuko sheathed his sword, pressing his bloodstained hand against Chang's mouth, to muffle his cries, crouching amongst the stink and refuse. He watched the soldiers, lit by their lanterns and fire in the night, making their way past with that same mechanical tread, doing his best to keep the child in his arms quiet. Zuko turned his face away, terrified he would catch their gaze, but they all rushed past without a second glance into the stinking blackness. Zuko crouched in the darkness, restraining the crying child, until the silence sank around them. His heart still thudded madly in his chest, and it was a long time before Zuko trusted himself to rise to his feet.

He didn't turn back – he wasn't going to try and retrace his steps – but faced into the darkness, eyes slowly adjusting. A weak, silvery glow of moonlight was enough for Zuko to slowly pick his way along the narrow path. He looked up at the dilapidated houses, checking for thin cracks of candlelight between the shuttered windows, trying to find a house swathed entirely in darkness. He must have been in a terrible part of town, to run into a stinking hole like this. Chang was still crying, and Zuko tried to summon some words of comfort, tried to think of something he could say that would console him, but failed. He was at a loss, utterly. Eventually, Zuko arched his neck up at a house he was almost sure was abandoned. Either that, or the occupants were already asleep in the upper floors – in which case, they wouldn't even notice the pair crouching in their back room for a few hours.

Zuko's hand fiddled with the latch, and the door gave way. He almost cried with relief as he slid the door open, squeezing through the small gap into the darkness. Chang shivered against his torso, sniffling quietly. Zuko trailed a hand along the wall as he tried to get some sort of bearing. It was absolutely pitch black, and chillingly silent. There was a stuffy emptiness which indicated there was no one else in the room – thank Agni. Zuko found a corner, and sank to the floor. He took off his long sleeveless robe, doing his best to wrap it around the small child in his arms.

"Are you all right?" Zuko whispered in the blackness. Chang sniffed, and Zuko felt him nod in the darkness. He'd stopped crying out loud, but Zuko could feel him quiver with little repressed sobs, mouth and nose covered in the fabric. He cursed both his own stupidity. Zuko had done his best, but there was no shelter, no comfort he could provide to a young child who watched a man die before his eyes. "We'll be all right in here. They're not going to come inside." He could hear two men talking in the distance, their words odd and garbled, out of distinct earshot. Most likely soldiers. No civilian would be stupid enough to wander about in the dark. Enough examples would have been made. He felt so awkward, trying to console the tiny child in his arms. He didn't know what to say. What _could_ he say? Was there anything that could comfort Chang at this point? Zuko waited for a long time, rubbing wide circles into Chang's back, but his breathing still came out in sniffles and gasps. "Try and get some sleep." Zuko instructed quietly, leaning back so the little boy would be more comfortable.

"I can't." Chang's voice was high and plaintive in the dark. "I'm scared." Something tugged at Zuko, down in his very soul. "I'm hungry."

"Yeah, I missed dinner too." Zuko breathed in Chang's ear. "I'm sorry, I don't have any food. Just close your eyes and try to sleep." It was futile. He could feel the boys' little heart thudding against his chest. "I promise, things will be okay. Nothing is going to hurt you here." Chang sniffed. He didn't seem convinced. "What will help you feel better?"

"... Tell me a story." He eventually murmured. Zuko's eyes were slowly adjusting to the utter blackness, and he thought he saw a little white smudge looking up at him.

"A story?" Zuko looked up at the ceiling, blowing at his bangs. "All right... I don't know many stories." He thought for a while. None appropriate for children. While his mother often murmured fairy tales in his ear as he drifted off to sleep, his father scorned the stories, and recounted to his son gruesome battles and military campaigns and historical bloodbaths. Stories fit for a prince. Zuko tried to remember the silly little tales his mother had told him, but they had drifted away like ashes on the wind, leaving barely a soft whisper. The thought of her sent a fresh burning surge of guilt through his chest, but he shook his head, trying to push her away. He couldn't think on that at the moment. He had to be on his toes. Zuko began on an impulse, telling the child the story he knew best.

"Once, there was an evil king in an evil country-"

"Was it the Fire Nation?" Chang cut in curiously, taking his thumb out of his mouth to inquire. Zuko paused.

"No, it wasn't. This isn't in our time or world. Listen. This evil king saw all the riches of the other kings held and wanted it for himself. But the other kings had a warrior who protected them and their people. The evil king knew that as long as the warrior was alive, he would never be able to conquer the world and build his empire. So he sent his only son after the warrior, when he was just a boy. He said that if his son didn't kill the warrior, he would never let him be king and he would be banished forever." Chang was listening quietly. He didn't hear many tales about kings and princes –especially evil ones - and it interested him. "So his son the prince went forth and he searched all throughout the land, for three long years, trying to find the warrior, but the warrior kept himself hidden, and he always managed to escape. And the prince was very angry, and he burned down every village and town he met, to punish the people for hiding the warrior." Zuko's face flushed with shame in remembrance.

"The prince kept following him all throughout the land, fighting monsters and crossing an ocean, and finally, the warrior and prince met in battle. They fought two long days and nights, but the warriors had many friends who were able to support him. The prince didn't have any friends, you see. He was all alone. So the prince was defeated, but left alive. His father, the king, was very angry. He declared his son a traitor and put a price on his head. Any man that turned him in would receive riches beyond his wildest dreams. The prince was very sad, because he still wanted to defeat the warrior and prove himself to his father, but he had no choice but to go in hiding, and disguise himself as a peasant from one of the good kingdoms. He kept following the warrior, but he was unable to capture or defeat him. Eventually, the prince entered a huge city, the largest in the world. He looked around and saw a people that were untouched by the war had torn his own nation apart. The prince also fell in love. Not with a princess, but with a peasant girl, who was as graceful as the moon and had beautiful eyes that shone like the stars." His imagery was clumsy, but it got the point across. "The prince realised that his father was an evil man, and declared that he would never fight in his name again. His quest had ended, and he spent the rest of his life with the peasant girl in the city, and they both lived in happiness until the end of their days." Zuko let out a long breath as he finished his rather hurried story, screwing up his face. Chang was silent in his arms, and Zuko thought that he had fallen asleep. A few moments later, however, his cautious little voice piped up.

"Is that it?" Chang sounded confused.

"Huh? Yes, that's it." Zuko said quietly. "He realised that his people were evil and he didn't want to be one of them anymore."

"That's not a very good story." Chang sounded a little indignant. Zuko looked down at the small bundle of cloth.

"Why not?" Zuko didn't mean to sound so defensive, but it had touched a nerve. What was wrong with that story? What was wrong with him staying in Ba Sing Se, with Jin?

"What happened to the warrior? Was he ever defeated?" Chang sat up a little. "And if he was the only son, who was the next king? Why didn't he come back and turn the evil nation into good?"

Zuko was honestly dumbstruck. He sat in silence for a few moments, trying to think things over. How was a four-year-old able to comprehend so much? He didn't realise that Chang had heard his own fair share of bedtime stories, none of which ended in a prince assuming a life of poverty. The prince always got the throne, in the end, and the little boy didn't understand why he didn't in this story.

"It's... Not that easy." Zuko murmured. "Not everyone can be good, in the end. Some people are just... beyond saving." Like his father. "There's good and bad inside everyone. Usually the good wins, but sometimes, it's the bad."

"Oh." Chang lapsed into silence. Zuko closed his eyes, thinking the child was drifting into sleep. "Were you ever bad?" Zuko started a little, surprised. He peered down through the darkness.

"Everyone has done some bad things, Chang." Zuko said quietly. "I've heard your mother yell at you before. Try not to think about it. See if you can get some sleep. Nothing is going to come for you in here."

"I-I'm not sle-sleepy." That was a lie – the statement was punctuated by a long yawn. It must have been very late. Zuko had lost track of time, between the weaving his way through the streets and crouching endlessly in the darkness. Chang gave a long sigh of defeat, pulling the cloth up around his ears and laying his head down. "'Kay." He sniffed. "Promise nothing will come?"

"I promise." Zuko breathed into the child's ear. He couldn't spare an ounce of conviction. He remained still against the wall, arms around the warm little bundle on his lap. Zuko waited the soft breathing grew long and slow, before he hoisted the child in his arms and stood up, struggling to keep himself as steady as possible. The night air blew in his face, chilly and oddly smoky, as he stepped into the side alley. He grew immediately cautious and tense, as wound up and tight as a coiled spring. Every breath of air, every soft snap of a twig or scrape of a loose stone, crashed and roared in his ears as he stole along through the darkness.

By the time Zuko actually made it home, the light was heavy and grey. Dawn must have been an hour off, and the streets were entirely deserted. Zuko wandered about lost, until he found a black stain of blood on the ground, which he was sure was the blood he had spilled. He tried to retrace his steps, clinging to the shadows, watching out for any glimmer of light in the darkness, keeping his ears keenly tuned to any sound of movement. Normally, it would have been madness to wander about in utter darkness, especially in such an area of town, but the arrival of the soldiers had driven even the most merciless street mugger into his dark little enclave. Their rusty swords were no match for the well-oiled machines and razor-sharp steel of the Fire Nation. Zuko wondered how many men had been killed in that night. There was no way the people of Ba Sing Se escaped total bloodshed.

Zuko paused outside the tall, narrow house that housed Jin's family. There was a tiny sliver of light underneath the shutter, and the barest wisp of smoke from the chimney. So the fire was still going. He would have to tell them later not to keep the stove on after dark, if they wanted to emit the pretence of sleep.

They would have to. There would be a curfew, a sanction on public gatherings. Zuko remembered the political meetings he had attended with Jin and her brother. Their ideas on government, the lively discussion on how they could 'fix' Ba Sing Se and make it fair and equal – that would all be stamped out, and any future meetings would have to be in secret, under the cover of darkness, or exchanged in coded messages. There would be no more going out at night, no more parties, no more drinking. The few liberties the people of Ba Sing Se had enjoyed in their week of freedom would be snuffed out.

But they had experienced it. Zuko opened the front door quietly, groping for the banister. That would have been enough. They knew what it was like, to be truly _free._

Maybe they wouldn't accept this new invasion with the same apathy and ignorance. Maybe they would fight for their freedoms, even to the death.

Zuko could only hope that there would be people to stand with him in defiance of the Fire Nation.

* * *

Woot, giant long scene :)

I'm actually super keen for the next chapter (shit goes DOWN) so I promise you it won't take long.


	26. Chapter 26

Well, here it is har har. Chapter 26. I'm slowly wading my way through everything. I'm working slowly to include more of the Gaang's exploits, but of course, the main focus of the story will always rest on Jin and Zuko. I'm a fangirl like that :p

I don't own anything, of course.

* * *

"Why are you still up?"

Sokka looked up from his mess of maps and notes to his sister in the doorframe. He shrugged silently, returning his gaze to the candlelit paper.

"Can't sleep." He made a note with his pencil, brow furrowed. "I'm crunching some numbers, trying to work things out."

"Can you stop for a second?" Katara closed the door behind her. The hitch in her voice made Sokka pause, setting his pencil down and turning in his chair to regard her. Katara sat down on the empty stool, the only other seat in the tiny office, looking down at her hands.

"What's wrong?" He rested his chin on his folded arms, resting on the back of the chair. Katara rested her face in her hands for a moment, sighing. "Katara?"

"I've been thinking." Her voice was very quiet; Sokka leaned in to hear her. "About Aang... he's just so sick Sokka. I had to drug him to keep him asleep because he just can't be awake at the moment. And it's not just whether or not he's fully healed, he has to be fighting fit again, and that could take more months..." She gulped. "Forget the Eclipse, I don't think he'll be better by the Comet."

"Have you told anyone this?" Sokka edged in a little closer, stricken. Katara shook her head silently. "Not Dad or Toph?" She shook her head again. "Good." Sokka let out a long sigh. "Don't let anyone know yet. Everything hinges on the hope he can fight."

"What is it?" She lifted her eyes, watching her brother. Sokka turned to the desk, grabbing the topmost map. Pieces of paper drifted along the desktop and scuttled across the floor. "You have a plan?"

"I think I may have worked something out." Sokka spread the map out on the bed. "This is the main harbour for the capital city, and it's heavily fortified with towers and gates. But this bay here, from what I can tell, has very little defence. It is a longer journey across land, but it doesn't have the same fortifications."

"So we would just attack from that side?" Katara frowned.

"No." Sokka started warming up, getting excited as he usually did when he discussed his plans. "We would split our forces. A smaller army would attack as it normally would on the front, and a commandeered warship with the bulk of our forces would land at this bay whilst the Fire Nation is distracted, and sneak into the city in disguise."

"What would happen to the smaller army?" Katara asked. Sokka looked down at the map. "Sokka? What would happen to them?"

"Probably not good things." His voice was very quiet. "They would be bearing the brunt of the attack, at least until the main army fights. If we win, then they'll eventually be rescued, but if not, they'll be stranded." Katara's head snapped up.

"You can't possibly think-"

"There will be people out there willing to sacrifice themselves for the greater good." Sokka ran over her, keeping his eyes trained on the paper. "I don't like it, but it's the most sure way we can actually penetrate the Fire Nation's defences with the forces we have."

"What happened to no man being left behind?" Katara's voice wobbled. "These are our _friends_ Sokka. I won't have them used as some sort of distraction."

"This is just an _idea_." Sokka rolled up the map. He knew that Katara wouldn't go for it, but she didn't truly understand the situation. Her grip on the nuances of military strategies was tenuous at best. "It doesn't matter anyway. Without Aang, there is no one to fight Ozai hand-to-hand and no leader to unify the army." Sokka sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging. Katara nibbled on her lower lip, bright blue eyes staring at the rolled up map in Sokka's hands.

"In your plan..." She clasped her hands together. "Aang would be fighting Ozai during the comet, right?"

"Of course, it's the whole reason for the invasion plan." Sokka leaned back, tossing the map on the desk. "Get him while he's essentially defenceless." Katara swallowed, steeling herself. "Why?"

"... I could do it." She spoke the words softly, looking down at her clasped hands. Sokka jerked up, staring at her.

"_What?" _His voice rose to a screech. "Are you _insane? You_, fight Ozai?"

"What's so crazy about that?" Katara shot back. "You said he wouldn't be able to bend. I would be at an advantage. Look Sokka, I'm _good._ I've faced Zuko and Azula and won, show much harder could Ozai be?"

"Zuko and Azula are still just kids!" Sokka retorted. "This guy is _the Fire Lord_. He's been training since before we were born. And even if you manage to beat him, you'll still have to... well... _end_ him." He wrung his hands together, uncomfortably.

"Sokka, I _promise_ you, if I am _ever_ in a position to take Ozai's life, I wouldn't hesitate for a moment." Her voice was low and threatening as she leaned in. "That man has caused unimaginable pain to countless people. To _us."_ She withdrew, her eyes cold. "Don't wonder if I can stomach it. I _can."_

"We shouldn't be saying this." Sokka rose to his feet. "We can't sit here and leave Aang out of the picture."

"He was wrong when he said that this was his fight." Katara watched her brother pacing back and forth. "This is _everybody's_ fight. And if he's still like this come the eclipse, I'm not letting him go. I'm not going to risk him getting hurt. I don't want _anyone_ getting hurt in this."

"People are going to get hurt." Sokka sat down on the edge of the bed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "If we want to make sure it's not us, we have to take the initiative. We have to protect ourselves by mounting the next attack." She looked at him.

"No one is getting left behind, Sokka." Her voice was firm. She pulled away from him. "I mean it."

"Katara, this is _War." _He turned to face her properly. "Everyone knows what they're in for. Those who sign up know they might not come back. Some expect it. I don't like it, but if it means we win-"

"You can't use people as a sacrifice!" Sokka was so wrapped up in playing a game of war that he had forgotten his pieces were living, breathing humans. Those closest to him, his most loyal friends and allies. That he even briefly entertained the idea of forsaking them left her cold.

"I wouldn't send anyone who wasn't willing Katara. They would know exactly what they were doing." Sokka returned to his desk, half-heartedly rolling up the loose papers. "This is something worth fighting and dying for-"

"So you would die for this?" Katara's vision was blurred with tears. She didn't want to think about that. She hated it. She had been afraid, for months, that something would happen to Sokka, and it rattled her to the core. After her father had left, Katara attached herself to her older brother, and whilst she mothered and nagged him, there was still a significant part of her that looked up to him. She needed him.

"I... I don't know."

* * *

The large hall in the Earth King's palace was almost full when Gaolin crossed the threshold. Unlike the usual dark rooms and underground labyrinths he usually congregated in with his fellow Dai Li agents, this hall was above ground, the pale dawn filtering through the high windows and casting a grey light on the milling crowd. The young man wandered about, checking faces until he eventually found a friend.

"I thought you weren't gonna show up." Shi was a year or so older than his comrade, more grounded and less cynical. "Did you see your father?"

"I walked with him to the airship an hour or so ago." Gaolin said quietly. "He told me to keep my head up and my nose clean and look after the girls. Standard farewell ritual."

"You don't sound upset." The man noted, cocking his head to one side. "I know you don't like him, but spirits, he's crossing the world and may never return."

"I'm hopeful." Gaolin muttered under his breath. Shi heard him, but held his tongue. "He'll be fine, anyway. He's proud to be picked. Azula only took the best." And then left them in the command of an unknown Fire Nation General. Gaolin was inwardly outraged. How could the Dai Li continue to serve and obey a man who had nothing to do with them all? They weren't _mercenaries._ "Doesn't matter. What's important is what's happening here." They were all uncertain of their fate. It all depended on whether or not General Mung saw them as allies or foes.

"Have any idea what this meeting's about then?" Shi tried to pick up the conversation after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. "I'm picking it's some sort of meet and greet with the top Fire Nation soldiers."

"Most likely." Gaolin said, disinterested. He personally wasn't going to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with any soldier from the Fire Nation. He wasn't going to sell himself out, devalue his own moral integrity. If that was the announced plan, he would turn in his gloves and leave. For good this time.

Seriously.

"Look man, you have to perk up." The older man lowered his voice. "If you look like you're not cooperating... Well, I don't have to tell you."

"No, you don't." Gaolin replied shortly. "I've been told more than once to keep my head down and shut up. Can it, General Mung is here." True, the dark skinned man had taken his place on the podium, flanked by half a dozen soldiers on each side, with more filing into the hall. The young pair stood to attention.

"I imagine you must all be wondering why I summoned you this morning." General Mung's voice rang clearly through the high-ceilinged hall. "As some of you may know, I arrived only a few short hours ago, but I do not intend to be a lazy governor." Gaolin turned to the side, watching the Fire Nation soldiers enter the hall in twos. They stationed themselves along the walls, encircling the Dai Li agents. Trapping them. "Princess Azula has already departed this city, with a retinue of the finest Dai Li agents. They will continue to serve her privately, as she sees considerable value in them." His eyes glittered. "This is a view I do not share." A loud bang came from the end of the hall. Gaolin spun on his heel, gasping. The large double doors were pulled shut, and he heard the click of a heavy lock. "I understand your loyalty to Princess Azula; she is a fine young woman, and will in future lead the Fire Nation to unparalleled greatness. However, I disagree with her decision to station the Dai Li alongside our Fire Nation troops." Horror rose in Gaolin's chest. _What are they going to do to us?_ "I have been instated as the governor for this city, and it is my word which is the highest authority." There was a low, disconcerting rumble within the Dai Li. Slowly, they edged closer together, turning outwards, ready to fight. Gaolin clenched his fists. The Dai Li were outnumbered – Mung had filled the room with Fire Nation soldiers, anticipating violence. "Therefore, I am disbanding the order of the Dai Li." Mung's lip curled. "Your services are no longer required by the Fire Nation." He regarded the cluster of men with an ugly expression. Every Dai Li agent was able to read between the lines; Mung didn't trust the Dai Li. He didn't think them capable of committing the atrocities he had in store.

"Finish them."

Gaolin screamed as the crowd was engulfed with fire.

* * *

There was warmth in the young sun already.

Today was going to be a hot day. Zuko sighed, leaning against the doorframe with his legs spread before him on the steps. His sheathed swords were draped across his knee, and at his side was a cup of old grease and a smelly rag. It wasn't the right stuff, but it would do in a pinch.

He had to get the blood off his swords before it crusted on and stained the metal, inviting rust.

Zuko sighed as he unsheathed the blade, examining the steel in the pale sunlight. He had to do this outside, away from the eyes of Jin's family. They already knew – he couldn't silence Chang or hide the blood on his clothes – and they didn't need further reminding of what he had put their youngest child through. It was a thoroughly messy business, decapitation, and it was going to take a lot to shift the caked, dried blood. With the heel of his hand, he smeared a lump of grease along the flat of the blade.

"Hey." Zuko looked up to see Jin's twelve-year-old brother on the threshold, looking down at him. Zuko nodded a greeting as Hai took a careful seat next to him, staring thoughtfully out at the sparse backyard.

"Hey." Zuko looked back down at his blade as he carefully ran the rag along the metal. "Don't you have work this morning?"

"Ma isn't letting me go." He sounded glum. "Says it's too dangerous."

"She's right about that." Zuko muttered, unable to look at the boy. "Is your brother okay?"

"Chang? Yeah, he's asleep. He'll be fine. Ma's just happy that he's okay."

"Even though I killed a man in front of him?"

"Like I said, she's just happy he's okay." Hai rested his chin on his knees, staring at a grey sheet pinned haphazardly on the clothesline. "She thought you were both dead."

"Like I'd let that happen." Zuko blew on his sword out of habit, buffing it clean. "At least you got home safely. I was meant to pick you up, but I got sidetracked... There were all these kids..."

"I can make my own way home." Hai said defensively. "I'm not a baby. I can look after myself. Ma thinks I'm some defenceless child and it's not true. It's not fair. I mean, I'm _scared_, but I can't sit here and hide."

"Of course you can't." Zuko rested the sword on his knee. "Having you wrapped up in cotton wool will just make you soft and weak. You have to learn how to fight back. You can't be complacent. Complacency almost destroyed this city once and if people aren't careful, it will happen again." He bit his lip. "You aren't a bender, are you?" Hai shook his head. "Well..." Zuko paused. "If I give you something, will you promise to keep it hidden from everyone?"

"What is it?" Hai straightened up, turning to the teenager. Zuko slowly reached into his pocket, extracting the green-handled knife his Uncle had given him. A souvenir of the War. It pained Zuko to see it in his hand. All the knife did was conjure up memories of Li. He couldn't keep it anymore. He didn't want it.

"It's sharp." He didn't patronise Hai, telling him to be careful. "I got it when I was a kid. But I don't need it anymore." The younger boy accepted the gift with trembling hands. "This is a last resort. The weakest point in the Fire Nation armour is the neck, but if you're on the ground, aim for the tendons at the back of the knee. It's not as protected as the front and they'll never walk again after a blow like that. I've never seen this knife before in my life. If you get caught, I don't know where you got it."

"What knife?" Hai asked innocently. Zuko looked up, seeing the child's hands empty. His mouth twitched in a smile.

"Good." Zuko sheathed his sword, standing up. He gave Hai farewell nod before crossing into the dingy ground floor of the precarious house. It was foolish of them to think that a twelve-year-old could avoid the dangers of this new invasion; the Fire Nation weren't above spreading their pain and suffering to children. Zuko didn't return to the top floor. Instead, he turned into the street, slinging his swords across his back, keeping his eyes downcast and to himself. The morning was still early, and he wasn't late for work yet. He hoped that at least work would be normal, laying the same type, working on the same projects. He wanted something that he could lose himself in, distract himself from the chaos of the outside world.

The illusion shattered as he stepped inside. There were three Fire Nation soldiers crammed into the little shop front, Xi Quan cowering behind the counter. Zuko froze.

"We'll be in at noon to pick them up. Five hundred copies, _minimum_. Understand."

"Yes." Zuko's eyes fell on a large piece of paper unrolled on the wooden bench. Xi Quan's voice was quavering. "Five hundred. My apprentice will be here momentarily and we'll get straight to work."

"See that you do." The main soldier, who must have been a captain, turned away from the printer, towards the door. Zuko, who had pressed himself against the wall, kept his eyes firmly on the floor. He couldn't afford to be recognised again. But surely – no one would be looking for him here. The captain paused, smirking. "You better get cracking, boy." Zuko nodded wordlessly. He could have ended all three of them before they had the time to blink. Zuko clenched his hands, setting his teeth. The captain obviously wanted to get a rise out of him. He was egging the young apprentice on, looking for a fight. But he wasn't going to get one. Zuko kept entirely silent, and the man stepped back with a short laugh, turning towards the door. Zuko kept his eyes down until the three soldiers entered the street, earning a wide berth around them.

"What did they want." Zuko approached the counter quietly, picking up the paper. "What is this?"

"N-New laws." Xi Quan sounded faint. "They want at least five hundred copies to distribute by noon. For free."

"By the decree of General Mung, as authorised by the glorious and magnificent Fire Lord Ozai, conqueror of Ba Sing Se... Can we paraphrase this?" Zuko looked up from the paper. "It'll take an hour just to lay this out."

"I wouldn't dare." The man sank into a seat, looking very pale. "We have to start... They said they would burn my press to ashes..." Zuko looked back down at the paper, his lips moving silently as he read. "My whole life is in these walls..."

"Have you read this?" Zuko's voice was low. Xi Quan shook his head. "These laws... they're tyrannical. Curfew at dark. No unauthorised meetings. No one is allowed to carry weapons." He swallowed, his mouth dry. "All benders to be identified... What does that mean?"

"Don't read it boy, just start working on it!" Xi Quan's voice rose to a shriek. Zuko abruptly ran into the back room, laying the page out and weighing it down at the corners. He found the largest spare frame, and began yanking open drawers, scrabbling around for tiles, skimming the text as he did so. As he reached the seventeenth decree, Zuko's hands stilled, heart swelling in his chest. It surprised him. He didn't know why, but it did. It was the biggest blow for him, personally. He wasn't surprised that they would mark benders or restrict weapons or enforce a curfew. But this was cruelly despotic. Zuko looked out to the front, at the man who sipped at a porcelain cup with trembling hands, and back down to the paper, rereading the new law that would destroy him.

"All printers, presses, ink sellers, paper manufacturers, book stores, and other businesses involved in the distribution of printed or written material, are to immediately cease trading and destroy all remaining stock. Failure to comply will be met with heavy punishment."

* * *

Renshu folded and unfolded the letter in his hands as he waited alone in the ornately furnished lawyers' office. It was all polished wood and priceless-looking vases and ornaments. He didn't see how it contributed to Taizu's work ethic or professionalism. It seemed almost to invite thievery.

Spirits, he'd been in the Lower Ring for too long.

He ran his eyes over the short letter for what must have been the hundredth time that afternoon. Nothing but a short note from his old family lawyer, requesting an audience with him as soon as possible. New information had come to light regarding his mother's estate.

It was a ruse, and he saw straight through it. His mother's will was iron-clad. She struck him out after he shacked up with a pregnant Shan, and he received nothing, as threatened. Renshu folded the paper again, sliding it within his clothing. Taizu clearly wanted him here for another reason, something too illicit to be mentioned via correspondence.

"Renshu." He jerked up at the mention of his name, finding Taizu himself standing on the threshold of the small waiting room. "Come in, please." Renshu bowed a greeting, following the lawyer into a spacious, thickly-carpeted office. He had been in here several times before, and took a seat before the rosewood desk silently. Taizu took a wordless seat, bending down to look at a stack of papers. His glasses were perched on the end of his nose.

"Why did you call me here?" Renshu didn't bother with pleasantries. "I know this," he threw the unfolded paper on the desk. "Is a lie." Taizu withdrew a pair of tweezers from a drawer, holding the letter up to a candle on his desk.

"I was worried you would get your hopes up." He murmured, holding the paper aloft as it swelled into a brilliant orange flame for a few moments. It sputtered, curling into itself with a dull glow, withering into ash. A few scorched fragments fell onto the polished desk, and Taizu blew them away. He didn't like leaving a paper trail. "You're still sharp as a tack Renshu." He replaced the tweezers. "Tell me, did you hear about the Dai Li this morning?"

"It's all the city can talk about." His heart skipped a beat in his chest at the thought. It had plagued his mind all day – how could it not, considering those in its ranks? "I don't understand why they are so worried about those in the Dai Li remaining loyal to the Earth Kingdom. Ever since Long Fen seized control, the well-being of Ba Sing Se has been the last thing on their minds."

"Even a potential threat is still a cause for concern." Taizu leaned back in his chair. "What do you think about that?" Renshu wouldn't look at him. "I know you cut your ties when you handed in your gloves, but you can't-"

"If you know something, just _tell_ me." Renshu cut over the other man sharply. "Is this about my brother?"

"Him? No. He wasn't there. A number of Dai Li agents left the city with Princess Azula in the night, to be her personal bodyguards." Taizu rose to his feet. "Wait here a moment, I'll bring him in."

"Bring who in?" Renshu turned in his seat, watching Taizu pass through the door. "What are you..." But the man had already left. Renshu leaned back in his chair with a long sigh. He didn't have the time for this. It was probably one of his old comrades who trained alongside him, swore to be his brother-in-arms until the death, and promptly blacklisted him when he broke from the corrupt-

"Uncle Renshu?" The man sprang from his seat at the quavering, tentative voice, chest tightening in shock. His nineteen-year-old nephew was bandaged to the neck underneath ill-fitting civilian clothes, his hands red with painful blisters. The acrid smell of burning fresh hung thickly in the air around Gaolin, who sat down slowly in the chair, wincing in pain. Horror rose in Renshu's throat.

"At least his face is intact. You ever seen a burned face? That turns heads." Taizu spoke as though this sort of thing happened every day, walking back to his desk. Renshu remained uncomfortably quiet. He certainly had. "Mung was an idiot. The Dai Li know the castle better than anybody, and it's a hunk of stone. Gaolin said quite a few escaped, but most were in better shape than him." Taizu leaned back in his chair. "His hands should be fine. It's those gloves, they got damn hot in the fire. The burns are mainly on the back. I got a surgeon in to take a look. It'll take a long time, but he'll come right eventually. The kid came here first. Too scared to go home in case the house is rigged. And he's got a point." Taizu took off his glasses, resting his chin on tented fingers. "It's not safe for him in these circles. Mung will do his best to catch the few agents that slipped through his fingers, especially now they're kindled against him."

"I can't." Renshu leaned against the desk. "You don't understand Shan, she-"

"Oh, I remember her." Taizu chuckled. "Quite a firecracker. It's too easy, having Gaolin with you. His defective uncle? Come now Renshu, it will be the first place they look. I'm going to give him enough money to get a room somewhere. He just needs someone to watch out for him. Check up and see how things are going. Take him to see a doctor."

"Right." Renshu nodded slowly, biting on his lower lip. Gaolin was completely silent, still in severe shock and moderately high on opium. It left him sluggish and woozy, the pain reduced to a dull ache. Renshu couldn't look at him. Guilt and disgust twisted in his stomach. "I can do that."

"'Course you can." Taizu was smiling as he handed over a small pouch filled with money. "That should be plenty. If you need more, send a note. I'm charging everything to his fathers' account. He's got more than enough gold invested in banks. I know it goes without saying, but for spirits' sake, don't tell anyone. All it takes is for one sly ear and we both know how gossip spreads."

"Of course." Renshu rose to his feet. "Are you going to try and get in touch with him?" They both knew who he was talking about.

"Too risky." Taizu said shortly, settling back in his chair. "They'll start checking mail soon. Did you know they're outlawing _paper_? Ridiculous, isn't it. I've already sent Mina down to the stationers to get everything she can lay her hands on. How do they expect me to do business without papers?" He sighed heavily. "Look after yourself. And him. Things are gonna get tough."

"I'll be fine." He touched Gaolin lightly on the elbow, signifying that it was time to leave. "They're not going to concern themselves with us lowly peasants." Taizu chortled.

"Small mercies, eh?"

* * *

"Afternoon." Shan looked up from her darning to see Zuko drag himself slowly across the threshold. He looked tired.

"Mmm." Zuko leaned heavily on the door to close it, eyes drifting shut. He was an emotional wreck. Telling his boss that his livelihood was circling the drain was one of the hardest things he ever had to do. Xi Quan had taken refuge in his strong bottle of liquor, and Zuko had to essentially carry him home and then break the news to his tearful wife. He felt like he needed a drink himself. And he _hated_ the stuff.

"You're home earlier than normal." Shan set down the sock she was darning. "What happened at work?"

"Too much." Zuko groaned, sinking into the second chair with his head in his hands. "Work is finished. Xi Quan has to close his business. New decree."

"Oh, spirits." Shan let out a long sigh. "You too?" Zuko lifted his head. "Jin got an inspection at work. She doesn't think they'll be lasting long. She's having drinks with her work friends to commiserate. Renshu went in, only to be told that there was no work today. I don't know where he is. Jiro hasn't come back yet. Spirits help us if he's out of work too."

"They'll still need carpenters and factory girls." Zuko said quietly. "Jin and your husband will always get work. But they don't need printers. Not in a town where information and news is cut off." He rested his chin on a hand. "I should be able to find something else. I'm just worried about my boss. He doesn't have anything else."

"If he's smart, he would have money saved up for retirement. You could send him a message tonight if you're worred... oh!" Shan blinked. "I just reminded myself. This got sent for you today." She withdrew a letter from her pocket. "I can't see a return address anywhere. It was dropped off by a messenger boy."

"Thank you." Zuko accepted the note, tearing the seal with curiosity. Who knew where he was staying? Who was going to send _him_ a letter? Zuko only knew a comparatively small number of people in the city, most of whom he saw daily. Who didn't want to meet him face-to-face?

His heart sank as he read the note, a familiar tight feeling welling in his chest. His turmoil must have shown on his face as he read the paper; Shan reached over and gently touched his elbow, giving him a questioning look. Zuko swallowed as he slid the letter into a pocket, his hands trembling.

"Are you all right Lee?" Zuko stared into space for what seemed like a long time, head whirling. "Lee?" He snapped out of his reverie, turning to the woman.

"Sorry." Zuko stood up, trying to seem unfazed. It didn't work. "Where did you say Jin was again?"

* * *

"You lose." Aang triumphantly extracted the last tile with a weary smile. "Again. Are you sure you're not letting me win?"

"Positive." Sokka collected the pieces. "Maybe you're just good. Or maybe we're not playing it right." The simple game had been found in the bottom of a soldier's foot-locker, and Sokka and Aang made the rules up as they went along. "Do you want to stop? You look pretty tired." He sat cross-legged on the bed opposite Aang, who was propped up against the wall with a stack of thick crimson pillows.

"I'm fine." Aang forced a smile, watching Sokka lay out the pieces. "I like this game. We don't have to think much." Sokka chuckled under his breath.

"All right. You go first." He watched Aang stare at the board intently. "Hey, I thought you didn't have to think."

"Shush." He shifted a tile to the right. "Your move." Sokka made to raise his hand, but before he could move, a loud _clang_ echoed above his head. It sounded like it was coming from the deck. "What was that?" Aang looked up at the ceiling.

"I... I think it was the bridge." Sokka clambered across the bed, seizing the helmet from the foot of the mattress. "Stay here Aang. I'll go check it out."

"Don't worry." Aang muttered. He couldn't move if he tried. Even leaning over to reach a cup of water hurt. He brushed the game board away, pulling the blankets up to his chin as Sokka closed the door. Aang wasn't scared – was he? No. Of course not. So what if he was weak and defenceless? Nothing was going to harm him, not down here.

Sokka positioned the helmet carefully as he stepped up onto the main deck, taking stock. From this angle, he could see Toph crouching behind a stack of crates in hiding, trying to feel as much of interaction as she could. Near the doorway stood a disguised Katara, who refused to withdraw into hiding. She managed to conceal her slender figure underneath the bulky armour, resting her thumb on cork of her waterskin. He was right about the bridge. A familiar-looking ship had drawn up alongside their own vessel. Bato and his father seemed engaged in close conversation with a man Sokka had never seen before, in an unusual uniform. The helmet had wings around the eyes.

_Wait._

Sokka cast his eyes up to the ships flags. Another banner hung alongside the royal insignia of the Fire Nation. A furled representation of a sea raven. Sokka looked from the banners to the commander's uniform, and back again, his stomach cramping painfully.

_It was __**them.**_

"-It shouldn't take too long, and we will reimburse you at the next port." Sokka approached the conversation silently, his heart hammering in his head. The commander was unrecognisable under his helmet. But then again, Sokka had never laid eyes on the man who killed his mother.

Was this _him?_

"I will have to check my coal stocks." Hakoda's voice was shaking; Sokka heard the painful quaver in his voice. "It is a days' sail to the nearest dock. You... Must have travelled far."

"From Whale-tail Island." Sokka watched his fathers' hands reflexively clench into fists and loosen. "They're pulling in ships from every corner of the earth. Our job was mainly done anyway."

"I heard." Hakoda's teeth were gritted. The commander spoke in such an easy, matter-of-fact tone, but he could see the man was stewing in his own pride. As though he and his men were an elite force, with their own uniforms and banners, rather than a gaggle of raiders who preyed on civilians. _The filthy scum._

"We were actually ordered to begin heading north a month or so ago. It's gone quiet down south. We haven't had a major raid in years. Ever since we killed the last water bender, our orders have dried up."

Hakoda snapped. Bato attempted to seize his comrade by the arm, but Hakoda lunged forward, knocking the commander to the deck. He fell down with a gasp, winded. Katara screamed, running towards her father, but Sokka caught her around the waist, pulling her away.

"That was my _wife."_ Sokka and Katara both saw the flash of steel in the afternoon light, watching in complete shock as Hakoda plunged the blade into the commander's exposed neck. Hakoda tore the helmet from his own head as he watched the man die, blood gushing from a slackening mouth. He tried to scream, the cry only a muted gurgle in his slashed throat.

"Hakoda watch _out!"_ Bato managed to knock down the commander's second-man before he laid a blow, the clash of steel starting Hakoda out of his daze. He looked up to see the gangway being stormed by the rest of the raiders, his own men attempting to rally themselves around the doorway. But they were outnumbered. The adrenalin that surged through Hakoda's veins at the commanders' death left him almost deaf. Hakoda thrust the smaller dagger back into his belt, withdrawing his reliable tribal sword. He wasn't concerned with defeat – he had been _waiting_ for this. His efforts to 'fight the War' weren't as noble as he made them out to be. It had been a quest for revenge. For the past two and a half years, he had kept an eye out for the men who had killed his wife, with the sole intention of taking them – and their murderous commander – down.

And he had done it. Hakoda wore his blood – and he wanted more. He found himself the target of their main force, and he was glad. The metal gangplank crumpled and fell into the water with a horrendous crash, the air filled with the screams of drowning men. But enough of them had made it across to corner the warriors of the Southern tribe, hemming them in. Hakoda saw a flash of water from the corner of his eye, hearing a scream as several men toppled overboard. Katara's bending was enough to scatter the startled raiders, and Hakoda led a fresh charge, roaring. He still saw red.

Only a few of the men, thankfully, were benders. Katara and Toph did their best to take them out first, leaving the men to fight with the others in hand-to-hand combat. Hakoda and his men weren't trained for this sort of fighting; they preferred sneak attacks in the night, with the element of surprise. The spears and swords of the Fire Nation were sharper than their hand-carved weapons, their numbers thicker. But whilst the band of raiders fought in the name of defence, their attackers were desperate for vengeance. Kya wasn't the only casualty suffered at the hands of these men – every warrior had lost someone, whether family or friend, in the sixty long years of raids. As soon as she could, Katara flung herself at the commanders' body, tugging at his helmet. She had to see – she had to be _sure _that it was really him, that after all this time, he was really dead.

She uttered a cry, the helmet falling ignored from her hands, clanking to the deck. The half-open eyes of a stranger faced the sky, blood still oozing slowly from his neck. Horror rose in her throat, and she recoiled, feeling horrendously sick. This was not the face she saw in her nightmares. This man wasn't etched on her memory. She had never seen him before in her life.

"Katara!" Sokka screamed, watching the huddled figure over the body. Only several paces away, a soldier raised his sword, prepared to catch the girl unawares. He charged headlong, tackling the soldier before he could land the blow. The force of his helmet against the metal deck knocked the raider out cold. Sokka shakily got to his feet, heart pounding. He didn't feel the sharp pain in his side, a weak spot in the armour, or see the blood. Sokka took the soldier's sword, not realising it was his blood that stained the iron blade, rising to face the raiders. But he pitched forward after half a dozen steps, falling to his knees. His side flared up at the sudden movement, and only then did Sokka realise that he'd had been slashed open. Panic rose in his throat, and he tried to stand, feeling light-headed. He pressed a hand to his side, his palm coming away wet and slippery. Sokka tried again to stand, but lurched forward, his bulky armour clanging at he hit the deck. It was a deep cut, and he bled heavily. Katara hadn't heard her brother's scream. She was totally absorbed.

Hakoda was the first to notice Sokka. He caught sight of his son as he whirled around to catch a swordsman's wrist on the upswing, breaking the soldier's wrist and knocking him to the deck, where he screamed in agony, clutching the broken limb. Hakoda saw in an instant that something was very, very wrong, his heart seizing in his chest. Once again, he was totally deaf to the yells and clangs of the battle around him. White-hot terror seared through Hakoda's chest as he ran towards his son, brushing aside those who tried to stand in his way without a passing glance.

"Sokka." Hakoda's breath tore from his throat in broken, jagged gasps, his vision clouded with tears. He pressed his hand against his son's wound, testing the blood flow. Sokka winced at the touch, protesting weakly that he was fine, it was just a scratch. His face was grey. "A-Are you... Oh Spirits _how..."_

"I-I'm f-fine." Sokka was trembling, his back and brow damp with sweat. Blood seeped between Hakoda's fingers. He scrabbled uselessly his sons' armour, trying to check the wound. He couldn't see. "P-Please Dad, I'm all right." Sokka let out a cry of pain as Hakoda's hand brushed the open wound, biting on his tongue in embarrassment. He tried to maintain a brave face, while his heart pounded in blind fear. The black stain was spreading across his blue shirt – he was bleeding _fast._

"Katara!" Hakoda's voice was a raspy hoarse. She barely heard him. "_Katara!"_ The girl snapped out of her trance, whirling around. Her face was wet. She wasn't looking at Sokka or her father. Katara seemed dazed.

"It's not him." She was shaking her head. Hakoda froze. "I-It's not him!" He closed his eyes, trying to stop the pitching and swaying of the ground beneath him. He was trapped in a nightmare. His reckless stab at vengeance had done this. Hakoda tried to breathe, his mind whirling. His hands slackened, bile rising in his throat as he stared at the chaos around him, at his men fighting desperately for their lives, because _he_ blew their cover, at his son who was hurt trying to defend his sister, at the bodies that leaked blood over the deck, the cries of the wounded and dying.

And it was for _nothing._

* * *

Well, I hope that was worth the wait. I'm not all that confident. But OH WELL.

Also, I'm working on a companion piece to this story. It'll be Ursa/Ozai centric, basically fleshing out the basic sketch of the story that was presented on the show. I'm warning you because it will have some bearing on this story. I figured that it would be more effective to have it as a separate, standalone piece, rather than something hastily narrated by a character. You don't have to read it - the story will still make perfect sense without it - but I would probably recommend it. It will probably be out quite quickly, seeing as it's 'fresh' and 'new' for me - not that this story is getting tired yet, but writing something almost entirely new is still fun.

So yeah. Look out for that.


	27. Chapter 27

O hai,

I hope y'all are happy with my latest offering. I'm trying hard to focus more on producing shorter, more polished updates, published more frequently. But we shall see.

I am so determined to get this finished that I'm endlessly slashing off the heads of these new little subplots that keep forming. New back stories, relationships, conflict. I want so badly to put everything from my head onto the page, but I have to understand my limitations. I know the core interest here is in Jinko and the Gaang, and I have to stick to that. I'm trying to flesh out a world which is already been created by somebody else.

Damn fanfiction, huh?

That and if I didn't stop somewhere, this thing would end up being longer than _War and Peace_ and it wouldn't be finished until I was into my thirties.

All right, my rant is over. You can read now :)

* * *

_All right. Breathe in._

Zuko made sure to inhale through his stomach and abdomen rather than his chest. The sun beat down on his bare shoulders. A gentle wind blew in his face. A bird chirped somewhere. The gentle hum and buzz of the crowd danced on the edge of his hearing.

_Breathe out._

His hands were open, facing upwards on his crossed legs. His eyes were closed, mouth open as he exhaled. His neck arched backwards, the sun a glaring orange behind his closed eyes. The ancient parchment was pinned to the roof with broken pieces of tile.

_Breathe in._

He tried so hard to keep his mind empty, and open. Feel the sun on his face and skin. Embrace the warmth. Let it enrich him. Be mindful of Agni.

That wasn't entirely true. The paper was too old; science had marched on, leaving the legend behind. He knew that the sun was a giant, burning orb of gases, millions and millions of miles away in the stars, not the physical form of an ancient spirit on the edge of the atmosphere.

_You're not empty._

Zuko admonished himself, realising that he had forgotten to breathe properly. He settled himself down, and inhaled deeply through the nose, flexing his stomach. His neck was stiff. He heard the clash of steel, somewhere down in the streets. He let it pass.

_Breathe in._

Sweat gathered along his brow. It was very hot. He concentrated on the heat. He tried to imagine a world without it – well, that wasn't hard. He'd been in a midwinter night on the North Pole. He remembered the intense cold, the shock of plunging into the freezing water and battling through the blizzard. He remembered how he'd warmed himself with his inner fire.

_Breathe out._

This was the second time he'd tried the instructions written on the parchment. It was hard, he didn't often get more than a couple of hours to himself between work and Jin, who he still hadn't admitted his failing to. The first time, he was too distracted, angry, and frustrated, and called it quits after half an hour. He'd hoped that after a day or so, of putting it in the back of his mind, he could perhaps revisit the situation with a clearer head. It wasn't the end of the world. He'd merely been bending with the wrong source. Now, he knew the true, pure form, and he was going to be stronger than ever.

_Breathe in._

Zuko realigned his neck, staring with closed eyes up at the sky. He relaxed his clenched fists. _Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. _

He imagined his heart was a tiny, pulsating flame within his chest, which swelled and shrank with his lungs. He imagined liquid fire running through his veins, shooting out of his fingertips. He imagined what it would be like to fall into the sun, to be totally surrounded by fire hotter than he could ever comprehend. He breathed in and out, slowly.

After what seemed an age, Zuko opened his eyes. The light was blinding. He blinked slowly, vague shapes swimming on his vision as he tried to regain his sight. Eventually, he was able to focus, looking down at the spread parchment. It was yellow and brittle in the sun. Zuko would have to be very careful when he rolled it up.

Slowly, he cupped his hands together. He kept the images of fire in his mind as he stared down at his white palms. In the very back of his mind, a voice told him that it was too soon, he had to wait, he hadn't done enough meditation and reflection. He ignored it. Maintaining his long, slow breath, Zuko willed the fire to appear in his hands.

Nothing.

"_Dammit!" _Zuko brought a fist down on the tiled roof. "_Why? _I am doing everything _right!" _ He ran his fingers through his hair, trembling. "What is _wrong_ with me?"

_Maybe I'm just useless. _It was a view he easily accepted. He had been enough of a failure in the past. This was just another mark on the tally. Zuko had almost lost count. Perhaps he wasn't able to learn this new form of bending. Perhaps there was still a burning anger, deep inside him, that he refused to let go.

_Perhaps?_

It was an established fact. Zuko couldn't think about his father and sister without flaring up inside. Even now, he could feel his control slipping. He couldn't stand dwelling on them. Everywhere he turned, he was constantly reminded of who had done this to him, to the city. Zuko could never forgive them for it.

Again, he could feel himself rising at the thought. Zuko closed his eyes, trying to regain his breathing, trying to maintain a calm state of perfect openness. But what little concentration he had was irrevocably shattered. He felt awkward, angry, and jarred inside.

With a long sigh, he began to slowly roll the yellowed scroll, the ancient paper crackling ominously. He needed to be more careful. It didn't have much life left in it.

Zuko would just have to try again.

* * *

It was the sound of a girl screaming that jerked Aang out of his torpor. The moment he heard it, he _knew_ that it was Katara. He could never forget her voice. It was a long, horrible shout of pain – no, not of pain. Not physical pain at least. It was the sound of a girl in unimaginable terror.

Something was wrong.

Aang sat up immediately, throwing the bedclothes aside. He managed to take two steps before his chest flared up in pain, the boy leaning against the wall heavily. It took some moments for him to regain his breath, and he lurched forward unsteadily, wavering on his feet. He didn't know what he was doing; he couldn't _help_ her, not in this state. He could barely walk, how could he face whatever dangers that lurked above his head?

But he couldn't sit downstairs in darkness. He couldn't pull the covers over his head like a child and wait for the noises to go away. It was an iron resolve that pushed him forwards, one hand on the wall for support. No matter how injured he was, how much he suffered, Aang could never just do nothing. The shouts and cries, the biting clang of steel on steel grew louder as he made his way down the dark corridor. He felt his way along in the gloom, staggering along on his uneasy feet. He had trudged only a couple of yards forward when the outside door burst open, a tall figure silhouetted against the bright afternoon sun. Aang fell back against the wall as the man pushed past him, holding an unmoving body in his arms, followed by what must have been Sokka in full armour. Aang's heart seized in terror, and he turned on his heel, limping as fast as he could after the three. They disappeared into Aang's room, and he could hear Katara's indistinct voice. She sounded like she was crying. Aang caught a 'lead your men', before the tall figure staggered out of the room, his face white.

It was Hakoda. Terror rose in Aang's chest as he caught sight of his ravaged face. Hakoda walked like drunken man, his eyes utterly lifeless. If he saw Aang, he didn't pay him any heed, lurching past him, into the light. Aang ran the several steps back to his room, sinking to his knees in the doorway. White spots danced on the edge of his vision, and he had to crawl forward on his hands and knees, dragging himself up by the edge of the bed.

_Sokka._

A disconsolate whimper rang in his throat as his eyes locked onto the figure splayed out on the red sheets. Katara's hands emitted a soft glow, pressed tightly against his side. She'd torn off his breastplate and shirt. It was discarded at Aang's side, splattered and stained black with blood. He knew now what made her scream. Aang ignored the pain in his own chest as he heaved himself to the girl. Katara looked up at the movement. Her mouth was twisted in a knot, her eyes rimmed with red.

"I-It's not much." Her voice was a soft, broken whisper. Aang couldn't look away from Sokka's face. He was unconscious, his normally caramel skin the colour of sand. "Just a-a cut in the side. I don't know how..." Katara let out a low moan. "Th-the last thing he said... I-I asked him if he wanted to die for this. Oh _Aang." _She burst into fresh sobs. Aang wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into his touch, her hands trembling against Sokka's healing wound. She watched the glow on her hands with a heaving breath, Aang shifting his own gaze to her face.

"What happened?" His breath was a faint wisp in her ear. Katara shivered a little from the sensation, looking up from her hands.

"Dad thought... We _all_ thought that... It wasn't _him _but..." She tried to speak through her tears, screwing up her eyes, trying to wash the image from her mind.

"But what?" He pressed further, his grip on her tightening. Katara sniffed.

"They're th-the men who've... who've been attacking us, all these years. The raiders who killed..." She drew in a deep breath. "They _deserved_ this." But why did she feel so utterly destroyed at the thought of that man dead on the ground?

Katara lifted her hands away. There was nothing but an ugly brown mark on Sokka's skin, and a lot of dried blood, besides. It would be some time before the colour would return to his cheeks, and even more before he would finally wake, but he would survive. Katara craned her neck up to the ceiling. The sound of fighting was muffled in the small cabin, but she could still hear the shouts of men above her. She knew she had to go and help, they would be needing her on the close field of hand-to-hand combat. Her father and his men were outnumbered, and most likely severely demoralised.

"I have to go." She hated herself for saying it. She felt like she was abandoning her brother, leaving him half-alive in the care of a boy who couldn't even walk. But what would he say, if he were awake? He would tell her to go on deck, get out there and kick as much butt as she could. Katara grasped blindly for her helmet. "Watch him... H-He should be fine, but..." She couldn't finish the sentence. Katara embraced Aang tightly, burying her nose in his shoulder. He got a nose full of her hair, and breathed in deeply, his stomach fluttering uncomfortably, despite his sick dread.

"We'll be fine." Katara opened her mouth to counteract Aang, but closed her lips, shaking her head. She just couldn't. Without another word, she pushed the helmet down over her head, hovering carefully in the doorway of the small room. She looked utterly transformed in the armour, the soft glint of her bright blue eyes piercing Aang beneath the visor of the helmet. It seemed to him all that separated her from the other Fire Nation soldiers. She maintained her gaze for a few moments, caught in the heart-wrenching state of indecision, staring the two people closest to her heart horribly wounded on the bed.

_How could this ever happen?_ Katara tore herself away from the pathetic sight. She was crumbling away at the edges, rattled in the core of her very soul. _What did we ever do to deserve any of this?_ Her breath was a harsh gasp in her throat, as she stepped into the darkness, or the light, she didn't know which.

_How did we fall so far?_

Aang's hands were a twisted lump in his lap as he turned it over slowly in his mind. He was trying separate the tangled rush of his confusion in his head, but every moment, it seemed, he heard another cry, another clang of metal, another heavy thump on the deck. He didn't know who was winning, he had no way of knowing. But they would have had enough men up there, with all the warriors and Katara and Toph besides, they would be fine...

He rose to his feet. It was _wrong_ to do this, he knew. What could he even do? He could barely stand on his own two feet, let alone fight. But he pressed on forward with a dogged determination. He didn't care how wounded he was, he ignored the pain. He wasn't going to stay down here, whilst everyone above him fought desperately for their lives. He knew, in the pit of his stomach, that if he _had_ been there, Sokka wouldn't have been injured. Not like this.

Surely, he could do _something._

* * *

"Catch."

Jin was tossing individual nuts in the air, watching as Momo dove from the bed, weaving effortless through the air and catching them before they hit the ground, cramming the tasty treat into his little mouth. He was looking a _lot_ better than he had a week ago – his coat was soft and glossy, his eyes clear, and leg almost healed. He slept on Jin's bed, a little curled ball underneath the blanket that she sometimes kicked at in her sleep. For the first few nights, she started awake at the sensation of fur on her leg, thinking a weasel-rat had sneaked into her bed. But she got used to the little lump of warmth at her side, hearing his odd little breaths and snores in the night.

He was even getting used to Zuko.

Jin flicked a nut off her thumb, watching it arc through the air. Momo didn't miss a beat, settling down on to the bed with his catch. Zuko lay on the bed with his head in her lap, watching the lemur cram the nut into his mouth. His fingers lingered around a glass bottle half filled with a thick, dark liquid. His eyes were glassy and clouded.

"He's looking good." Jin murmured in the pleasant silence, watching Momo turn to her, cocking his head to one side impatiently. Zuko made a small noise of assent in his throat, raising the bottle to his lips. "Don't drink it all. I don't know where we'll be able to get more." Zuko made a face at the taste.

"There'll always be black-market drink." His head lolled backward, and he looked up at her. Jin took the bottle from his slack hand, taking a deep swig. She swallowed the drink, unperturbed. "Even if there's nothing else." The crude words slipped carelessly off his tipsy tongue. Jin raised an eyebrow at the language.

"Even if the city burns down?"

"They'll build a pub in the ashes." Zuko laughed at his own rude joke, rolling onto his side. "Ugh. What time is it?" He sat up slowly, eyes screwing shut. Jin shrugged her shoulders wordlessly, trailing her fingers along the bedspread in search of the stopper. "Must be dinner soon."

"I don't want anything." She plugged the bottle, sounding morose. She still felt empty and disconsolate. She dreaded going back to work the next morning. Who knew what would be standing? Would they still be bleaching sheets and pressing silken shirts? Surely, the Fire Nation would devise another use for their factory. Something they could squeeze money out of. She was terrified of somehow being trapped, forced into slave labour at the hands of the commander who strode so confidently into the factory that morning. Who would be there to speak out for her?

"Me neither." Zuko rubbed at his eyes with his palm. He'd lost track of the time. He emerged from his rooftop perch to find Jin drinking alone on the bed; the women she was drinking with had to return home to their husbands and children. Houses had to be cleaned, dinners cooked. She'd offered him a sip of her thick liquor. He was too exhausted and nervous to turn down the ability to numb himself, and he almost lost himself in the bottle. And her. She was pulling him down into the dark waters, whispering almost desperately in his ear that she _wanted_ this, more than anything. But he emerged gasping, pulling himself away from her, refusing to drown. It was so odd. He didn't want to take her. The thought left him feeling sick. He would lay his hands on her skin, she would pull at her own clothing and his, and he felt removed from himself, stepping back and staring at the scene. And it looked sordid. He always pulled away, straightening his clothing with a reddening, apologetic face.

"We were invited out tonight." Jin spoke out of the gloomy silence. Zuko turned to look at her. "I met Ai, and she told me to bring you and Jiro."

"Where?" Momo approached Zuko cautiously, sniffing his hands. "Everything will be shut. Curfew, remember?"

"Just her place." Jin set the bottle on her bedside table. "Beats sitting around here, locked in our own heads." She rested her head on Zuko's shoulder, pressing a nut into his hand. Zuko offered the treat carefully to Momo, the pair watching the lemur snatche it from his palm, and dart to the corner of the mattress. "He's getting better around you." Zuko's lip twitched in a smile. "So yeah?"

"Yeah." Zuko gave a half-shrug. His hands and feet felt very warm. He watched as Jin pulled herself to her feet, pottering absent-mindedly around the room, fixing her hair and changing her shoes, trying to look nice despite her tired, worn clothing. Zuko lay back down on the mattress with a groan, closing his eyes. He didn't feel like going anywhere. More than anything, he wanted to sleep, a deep, long sleep without any bad dreams. But that hadn't happened for a long time, and, it wouldn't, as far as he could see. The invasion of the city, his bending, his mother, Iroh, they all swum painfully in his head, mournful faces flickering behind his closed eyelids. He opened them, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't consider the risk of getting caught. He just wanted out of his own head.

The less time he spent with himself, the better.

* * *

_How could you do this to your son?_

Hakoda was a ravaged husk of a man as he half-staggered across the deck. His vision swam, and he struggled to focus on the images before him, the twitching of half-dead bodies strewn on the metal deck, the flurry of Bato locked in combat at his left. He raised his sword half-heartedly in his right hand, assuming a defensive stance. Gone was his bloodlust and quest for vengeance. Gone too was his desperate fight for even his own survival. He felt nothing within himself.

"Aang!" Katara's voice rang out in the air, the girl freezing at the sight of him leaning heavily against the door frame. His head was bowed as he struggled to regain his breath. Katara's voice was enough to break Hakoda from his daze, and he turned in time to see the young Avatar step out into the sunlight, his shoulders squared and head erect. He didn't realise what it meant. He didn't connect. Aang raised his arms, focusing deep on the energy within himself. He wasn't concerned with his wound, or the pain. He could do this. The ocean air was brisk and windy enough, and it wasn't hard for him to control the powerful breeze, sweeping several of the raiders overboard. Despite the dark thatch of hair on his head and long sleeves covering his arms, he was instantly recognisable to the band of raiders. They backed away quickly, a couple flinging themselves over the side of the ship.

It didn't take them long. Hakoda managed to regain himself, just enough to hoarsely shout a regroup, for someone to get the ship moving as fast as possible. Toph had managed to incapacitate quite a number of men herself, and they were pinned to the deck, or bound in iron. Katara thought that maybe Toph hadn't realised what had happened to her brother, but she caught a glimpse of her blind eyes beneath the dark curtain of hair. They were red and watery.

She knew.

As soon as the last man had been knocked to the deck, Toph fled. She didn't wait for orders from the chief. She was apart from them, of a different creed. Let them do what they liked. She brushed past Aang, barely taking notice of the boy wavering on his feet. She couldn't feel from here if he was even still alive. The heavy tread of Hakoda's feet had suggested his death, freezing her core. She wouldn't think of anything, not until she was able to see for herself.

He was so still. Toph flung herself down on the bed, reaching out and seizing the closest bit of skin. Her fingers closed around Sokka's ankle, a pulse throbbing in warm skin against her hand. She was limp with relief. Toph screwed up her face, trying desperately to shake the tears stinging her blind eyes. She was being stupid. He was _fine,_ his heart was fine, and he was warm. No shakes, no sweats, he wasn't going to die. Not from this, anyway. Why was she being so weak over this? Toph _never_ cried.

"He got hit in the side." Toph started at the voice in the doorway, face reddening. How had Katara caught her off her guard? The mattress did a very good job at masking vibrations. That was it. "There was a lot of blood but he's fine now." She could hear two people breathing, sensing a pair of footsteps entering the room. One was light-footed, leaning heavily on the other. Aang. "He's fine."

"What happened?" Toph interrogated her, wiping quickly at her face. "I don't get it. One moment they were in talks, then we're under attack. What the heck made your dad bust a nut like that?"

"It's a long story." She set Aang carefully down on the bed. She supposed it would have been more generous to find a new room for him, so they could each get their own bed, but she wanted them to be in the same room. She wanted all of them to be together. "He thought that commander was the man who murdered our mother."

"Oh." Toph's voice was very small in the dim room, the fight in her dissipating. She sank into a strained silence, drawing her knees up to her chest, feeling very small. Katara walked around the room with trembling hands. She checked on Sokka first, and reached over to unwrap Aang's bandages, but he brushed her hands away, shaking his head.

"Don't." His face was white. Katara withdrew, her lower lip quavering. "I'm fine." It was such an obvious lie. He probably moved too quickly, and pulled something, tore something open. But if he was hurting physically, he didn't show it. Katara wondered if he even felt anything. "How many... How many were dead in the end?"

"I don't know." Katara sat down on the edge of the bed. "Half of the soldiers... a few of our men... I didn't keep count."

"If I'd come out earlier-"

"It wouldn't have made a difference." Katara cut over him. She opened her mouth to continue, to launch into a tirade of how he had to realise his own weaknesses and limitations, how he had to let Katara and Sokka handle it, until he was well enough her own mind, it sounded false and weak. It was useless; Aang had stubbornly accepted the weight of the world on his shoulders, and he refused to share the burden, even with the people he declared were his teachers.

_But he has a point._ Katara couldn't look at her brother, whose prone figure was hidden from her view by Toph's hunched body. She couldn't look at Aang either. She knew he would be staring at her. She kept her gaze on her hands. It was obvious now, more than ever.

_We can't defend ourselves anymore._

* * *

"This is _bullshit."_

The small group of teenagers jumped at the hands thudding heavily on the table, ten pale faces flickering uncertainly in the dull lamplight. Jin watched her brother resume his anxious pacing in the gloom with her chin leaning heavily on one hand. He teetered dangerously close to an explosive, angry edge. She shifted her gaze to her left, looking silently at Zuko. His gaze was downcast, the light casting his eyes into deep shadow.

"After _so_ long, how can this happen again?" Jiro's voice rose. "We had _freedom, _for just one week and now they think they can just take it away?"

"Jiro, shut up." Jin hissed, head snapping up. "Curfew, remember?" She jerked her head towards the heavily shuttered windows, the cracks stuffed with old rags. "Sit down."

"We spend our whole lives in fear of the Dai Li, and now we get the Fire Nation bearing down on us." Jiro leaned forward over the table, glaring at his sister. "And you want me to calm down?"

"Jiro's right." The lanky Ping spoke up, his arms crossed and feet on the table. "This _is_ bullshit_._ If the Fire Nation think we're gonna sit back and let this happen, they have another thing coming."

"But we can't even _do_ anything," Ai argued, pushing her cousins' feet off her table. She was an extremely pretty girl, and it wasn't often Jin saw her this close to tears. She looked almost ugly in the candlelight, with the shadows on her creased face. Her mouth was trembling. "They're an _army_. We couldn't fight off the Dai Li and we can't fight thousands of soldiers. We're stuck here, with this."

"At least you have your job." Zuko spoke up suddenly, raising his face. The shadows remained under his eyes, and Jin realised in the light just how tired and strained Zuko was. He hurt, more than anyone else, over this. It was his own people who held the city, and he was entirely powerless. "You won't be homeless or starving." He bit down hard on his lower lip, unable to banish the image of Xi Quan from his mind. He was a man utterly destroyed by this. A man who had poured everything he had into his business and could do nothing but stand back and watch it burn before his eyes. Tomorrow, he would have to strip his store of everything that held value, give it up to be plundered and destroyed. They would pick through, taking everything they could sell, and burn the rest. If they were lucky, they would leave his shop intact. He could turn it into something else, something legal. Or he could rent it out as living space to a homeless family. He could even reside it in himself. Or he could sell it up entirely, go back to his home, and wait for death. How long would an elderly man live without any purpose, in forced retirement? A year, perhaps? Two, if he was lucky.

_No._

Zuko's face tightened, his hands curling into fists on the table. He couldn't let that happen to him. Xi Quan was a good man, who gave him chances and extended his hand when Zuko was at a low point. He couldn't just by and let his life's work crumble before him. It had to be saved, somehow. Zuko was drunk; he wasn't considering the ramifications of the half-baked plan in his head.

"I know _something_ we can do."

* * *

It was like being born again. It was cold, so cold, his limbs quivering in the chilly air. Cold and impossibly dark. He cracked his eyes open, and saw absolute blackness. He thought he was blind. He very well could. A groan rattled from a hoarse, disused throat. He was so _thirsty._ For almost a full minute, he tried to free himself from the turmoil and struggle that wracked his brain. He couldn't think or feel or hear a thing. He felt as though he were suspended in midair, and it took such a long time for him to finally _feel_ again.

He felt the chains on his hands and feet before the bloodied rags binding his chest. The teenager whimpered, trying uselessly to shake himself free. The sound of his fetters rattling against the iron bedstead filled the tiny room, mocking him.

He tried to cry out, but his voice was a low, scraping whisper, hardly audible even to himself. He screwed up his eyes against the darkness, terror rising in his throat. He couldn't remember where he was. He couldn't remember _who _he was. He couldn't remember _anything._ Panic rose in his throat as he tried to think where he could have been before this, tried to remember a name or a face. But all he could picture in his mind was complete and utter blackness.

No. This couldn't be it. This couldn't be all that he knew. He _had_ to have memories, a past. Where was he before this? What had happened to him? Tears clung to his eyelashes, overflowed, and started to trickle down his face. He felt the water drip down past his ears, into his thick mop of dark hair. Harsh breathing tore from his cracked, dry lips.

_Please somebody has to be out there!_

His hands and feet were numb in the darkness, the cold sending goosebumps along his limbs. He wore nothing but tattered rags and bandages, a thin blanket thrown haphazardly over his frame. He struggled once more against the chains, the sound filling his ears. It sounded like a tinny, metallic laughter.

_No!_

He finally let out a sound, a short, hoarse scream that wrenched painfully from his throat. Did anyone even hear him? Was there anybody to hear his cries? He fell lax against the mattress, hair falling in his eyes. He felt completely overcome with terror and panic. He couldn't breathe. There was still nothing but pure blackness before his face; surely by now, his eyes would have adjusted and found the barest sliver of light. Surely, there would at least be shadows lingering in the gloom. He must be blind, then.

There was nothing left in him. His limbs felt dead. His face was wet. He arched his back in one last, futile struggle against the iron chains that bound him, and collapsed in agony on the mattress. The blind panic had enclosed his heart like a fist. He couldn't move. He couldn't speak. His breathing sank into shallow, ragged gasp punctuated by heaving sobs.

All he could do is wait for the darkness to claim him.

* * *

"Are you sure about this?"

"Nope." Zuko threw his shoulder against the locked door, but it didn't budge. "I don't suppose there's some scrap metal around here. Jiro, help me."

"Ugh, move." Jin pushed the pair aside, drawing her knee upwards. The door disintegrated in a cloud of dust, leaving a gaping hole in the outside of the building. What was the point of pretending she couldn't anymore? Everybody knew now. "All right, let's go."

"What is it we're doing again?" Ping raised the lantern over his head, staring around at the room. "Is this some sort of paper place?"

"It's a printer." Zuko disappeared into the back as the teenagers filed into the room. "I work here."

"This is your big plan?" Jiro sounded disappointed. "To come in and work late? What exactly are we going to do in this place? Lee? Lee, where did you go?" Zuko reappeared in the front room, pushing a large trunk.

"No, we're going to trash it." It seemed so perfect, so brilliant in his mind. He grabbed thick handfuls of blank paper, stuffing it into the trunk. "Can you girls finish up on this?" Jin bit back a retort, approaching the shelves. "Under the desk, there's a box of seals and stamps. Throw them in too. Oh, and the locked strongbox in the bottom. He keeps his money in there." Zuko crouched down beside the largest press, where the ink was kept. He selected half a dozen jars, his hands trembling. One slipped from his fingers in the excitement, and shattered. Black ink spread over the ground, and he jumped back to avoid staining his shoes – that would have been a dead giveaway.

"The fuck?" Jiro grabbed his arm. "This is your boss! What's wrong with you?" Zuko lurched back, swinging around to meet him.

"Nothing." He pulled himself free. "_Look._ Article seventeen states that everything related to his business is forfeit, right? It has to be given up or destroyed. The Fire Nation are going to come in tomorrow and take everything that isn't nailed down, I know it. But they can't do that if somebody gets there first." He spoke quickly, his face flushed. His mind worked very rapidly, and he couldn't shake the smile from his face. He made his way to the smallest of Xi Quan's three presses. It was his oldest, and had a habit of sticking, but it was the only one they had a hope of moving. "His business is sunk anyway, there's nothing to lose."

"Where are you going to take it?" Jiro watched Zuko set the lantern down on the table, fiddling with a wrench. The press was bolted down onto the heavy table, and he fumbled clumsily with the tool, his motor skills decaying. "You sure can't bring it back to our place, Ma would have a fit."

"I wasn't going to bring it home." Zuko crouched down. "Dammit. Who's good with a wrench?" Guo approached the teenager, and Zuko tossed the wrench to him. "We'd never get it up the stairs. There should be four screws." He ducked into the back room, yanking open a drawer of tiles. He hovered in thought; he could only take a few. The most basic characters, one size only. He found a trunk filled with spare press parts, and upended it noisily. Jiro came into the room to find Zuko tearing one of the drawers from its' shelf, scattering tiles.

"You're crazy, you know that?" He watched with folded arms as Zuko placed shelf after shelf into the small trunk.

"Probably." Zuko panted as he slammed the lid closed. "There, that's as much as I can carry." He lifted the heavy trunk, staggering a little under the weight. "Damn."

"You're destroying the place." Jiro blinked. He was sobering up, and although he liked to raise hell as much as the next guy, there was something odd and unsettling about what they were doing. He never trashed a strangers' place, and worse, this was someone's _boss – _not a cruel or nasty boss, either, he could understand that, but a man that Zuko had only ever spoken very highly of.

"No, I'm saving it." Zuko crossed into the front room, letting the trunk drop. He winced at the sound of shuffling tiles within the case, but turned to the press. "Is it off?"

"Yep." Guo tried to lift a corner of the press. It rose a few inches off the table, the effort reddening his face. "Phew." Jin was watching Zuko silently, her lower lip quivering. She didn't like how Zuko was behaving – there was something strange in his eyes, his voice. She thought maybe he was having a bad reaction to the alcohol. She didn't realise that he was merely impassioned, more so than he had been around her before, he was totally absorbed, excited at what he was doing. Yes, the alcohol was going a fantastic job in destroying his inhibitions and sense of reason, but it wasn't what drove him. It was defiance, the thrill of subverting authority in a completely new way.

Zuko straightened himself, looking around at the dark press. The few lanterns in the room spelled disaster – the wall was knocked in, papers and tiles were scattered over the floor. But it still wasn't enough. It was too controlled. Zuko hoped that vagrants and thieves would take advantage of the situation and plunder the store. There wasn't much left of overwhelming value, but plenty of people would take anything they could sell for a copper coin.

He was saving this place, not destroying it. Zuko nodded almost imperceptibly, the motion caught only by himself. The other teenagers were staring at him with shock and confusion, they didn't realise what was going on. How could they? Did they think that the Fire Nation wasn't going to hold back? Didn't they see this as the sane option?

"We need to go." Jin spoke up urgently. "Someone is going to see this light, Lee. I'm helping you but I don't want to get caught going this. I read the laws you printed, they're not shy about executing people." The back of her neck crawled uncomfortably. "_Please_ Lee. We can't carry anymore."

"All right." The shadows were under his eyes again, and his face once more looked white and hollow. They might regard it as a momentary lapse of sanity, but Zuko knew that it was the most sensible thing he could have done.

Because now he had one of the most valuable tools imaginable at his hands – the ability say whatever he wanted.

* * *

_When was he going to be here?_

Ursa looked down at her half-finished teacup, the gentle chatter of the teahouse slowly enfolding her. She had been sitting in utter silence for what felt like a long time, waiting, waiting for her son to walk through the door.

Perhaps he wasn't coming.

Ursa didn't blame him. She remembered the intense anger on his face. He looked almost as though he wanted to hit her. A day had barely passed since their reunion, and in those few hours, unspeakable tragedy had already occurred across the city. She was probably the last thing on his mind.

Her tea was cold. Ursa made a face as she took a sip of the liquid, and blew on it gently, steam rising in her face, dampening the thick curtain of hair. She usually pulled her hair back in a long braid, but today she wore it half-down with a loose topknot, a long-forgotten style she hoped would help endear herself to Zuko. She wanted to be as familiar and welcoming to him as possible.

The door snapped open with a low bang. Ursa jerked her head up in a start, eyes widening at the figure stepping across the threshold, scanning the tea shop quickly, searching her out. Zuko found her, and with an impassive look on his face, crossed the dingy room and took his seat before her.

"Morning." He said colourlessly, staring down at the tabletop with his arms crossed. Zuko didn't know what to say to her. His throat felt stuck. He wanted to apologize, to hug her and burst into tears and ask her to never leave him. But at the same time, that familiar rage bubbled up inside him. It had been such a long night, and he was tired and hungover. He'd fallen asleep in Jin's arms, with very little memory of the night before.

"Hello..." Ursa trailed off as she realised that she had no idea of her sons' alias. "Um... What do they call you here?"

"Lee. They call me Lee." Zuko clenched his fists under the table. Ursa nodded, forcing a weak smile.

"Lee then... Would you like some tea?" He nodded silently, slowly lifting his gaze as Ursa poured him a cup of lukewarm amber liquid. "There we go... I almost thought you weren't coming... Did you get my message?"

"It got passed on at home." Zuko took a tiny sip. It was Jasmine. He set the cup back down and pushed it away. He didn't want to smell it.

"Where do you live?" Ursa tried to strike up some normal conversation. Zuko gulped, spreading his hands out on the table.

"With Jin and her family." He said quietly. "I can't stay long, I have to go to work."

"Oh." Ursa said lamely. She stared at the tabletop for several long seconds, not knowing what to say. The awkward silence stretched out painfully, until it finally broke with a soft sob from her end.

"I'm so _sorry." _Zuko's head jerked up as he heard her tearful voice. Ursa's face was buried in her trembling hands. "Everything I did, I did for you, but..." She gasped. "You were hurt the most and you don't even know why-"

"What _happened?"_ Zuko leaned forward, his voice as hard as iron. "_Please_ Mum, tell me. Tell me _now_. I keep going over it in my head and I just don't understand why. I know why you had to kill him and leave but I don't know why I had to stay." He took her hands, tugging them down from her face. "Tell me what I don't know."

"W-Well..." Ursa blinked, trying to clear her vision. "I don't know where to start..."

"The beginning. Start from the beginning." Zuko's heart thudded in his chest. He teetered on the edge of a devastating realisation, and Ursa wasn't sure how much she could reveal to him. She didn't know how he would react. He could hate her. She gently tightened her grasp on Zuko's hands.

She panicked, in the end. Ursa was too scared to face Zuko's reaction, so she backed down. It seemed that it was impossible to tell him. She had waited too long, and now she thought it could hurt Zuko. How would he react, if he knew just how special he really was, for her, for the sake of the world? What would he say if she told him about her vision? Her sworn vow to protect him? Spirits, how could she _ever _tell her son he was conceived out of wedlock? It would destroy him. Ursa saw before her a troubled, scared boy who was unsure of his own destiny and struggling with his inner demons. She thought that she was protecting him, by keeping quiet.

"Ever since you were born..." She closed her eyes, trying to recollect her thoughts. "I knew you were special. Not in that stupid, blind way that every mother sees her first child. You _were_ truly something else. You were born early, you know. You were so sickly and tiny. Everybody said you were too small to live. Azulon commissioned white robes for the family, because we thought there would be a funeral. But you pulled through, somehow. You thought you were a failure as you grew up, but you couldn't be more wrong. You remember sharing your food with one of the servants because you could hear their stomach rumbling?" Zuko shook his head. "You were four years old. You offered him your smoked weasel-snake and Ozai was furious. It was the first time he hit you in front of the servants." Zuko's eyes were trained on the tabletop. "And one night on Ember Island, we saw a peasant child at the theatre with no shoes, and you asked me if you could give him yours, because you had so many. I know you tried hard to please your father, but you were never the kind of person he wanted you to be. You had such a strong sense of right and wrong, and even Azulon noticed. When we... When _I_ planned the assassination, I knew then that the Fire Nation needed you. That night I left you was the darkest in my life." Ursa said honestly. She paused in her long speech, drawing in a breath. They weren't lies. It was just the outline of a picture, a rough sketch that remained incomplete. Zuko opened his mouth to speak, but finding himself at an utter loss for words, closed his lips. "It hurt me, more than you could ever imagine. I wanted to take you with me. I wanted to be selfish. But I knew in my heart, that you were meant for more than what I could ever give to you. I told you to never forget who you were, do you remember?" Zuko nodded wordlessly. Ursa was fighting back tears. "And you can't. Not ever. You had to stay there and remain the Crown Prince. It was what you were born to be."

"I'm meant to be a lot of things." Zuko whispered. But Ursa didn't hear his low voice. He felt her hand on his wrist, and looked up to see her smiling face.

"And now I find you here." She tilted her head to the side. "And I still don't know why..." Zuko looked back down at the tabletop.

"I know I owe you an explanation." He sighed. "I know I could just say that it was Dad and you would believe it. But there's more, so much more than that. I just don't know how to start. I don't know where it all went wrong... When everything fell apart. Everything... It always felt wrong. Especially after you left." He tried to keep the cold, accusing tone from his voice, but it was still there. It stung her.

"Start from the beginning." She pushed the sensations away. Zuko took in a deep breath, nodding silently.

It took the better part of an hour. Zuko started sketching out the basics, but he found himself going back, explaining everything, filling in holes, and soon he was giving a long, almost blow-by-blow account of the last few years of his life. The tea at his elbow lay abandoned, his hands sweating, clasped with hers. Ursa remained silent, her face largely expressionless as he slowly told his story. It wasn't her place to interject.

When Zuko was finished, his voice was hoarse, and his eyes stung. He couldn't look at her, and he withdrew his hands, clenching them underneath the table.

"Oh_ honey."_ She breathed, shaking her head. "Come here." She rose from the table, opening her arms to him. Zuko rose in silence, and without a pause buried his face in her shoulder, trembling violently. He was heartbroken, angry, and most of all, ashamed of himself, and what he had done. She withdrew a little to look at him, and kissed him on the cheek. "I think you're fantastic. I knew that you would see the light one day." She embraced him tightly, not wanting to let go. It was so _surreal_. She was wrong. He wasn't like his father at all. He wasn't like her, either. He was something entirely different. "Don't stay mired in the past, you'll only get hurt in the end. You're here, you have people who love you." She spoke with experience. "You have to let it be."

"I know." His voice was muffled in her clothing. "But I still... It's hard." He pulled away, the two of them holding hands. "I am sorry Mum. For everything."

"I'm sorry too." She gave a wavering smile. "There's no changing what either of us did, Lee." It felt so odd to use. "I've done things that have made me ashamed. You couldn't begin to imagine. I've spent years trying to reconcile myself with what I've done, but all you can do is let the past stay there and try and move on." He looked rather blankly at her; he had heard the speech a hundred times before. She gave a tiny click of her tongue, wrapping her arms around him again. "Besides, I know you will make amends." Her face was oddly tight, as she said that. _You have to._

Zuko disentangled himself from her, keeping his eyes on the ground. He didn't really want to talk to her. He didn't know what to say. He looked up to meet her gaze, but words still failed him. It wasn't the same, what she did. She couldn't possibly understand how he felt, what tormented him. She couldn't ever. But it was something he couldn't even put into words. There was no way, it seemed, to justify or explain himself.

"I have to go to work." He finally spoke up lamely. He didn't want to stay here, talking about her past or his. Ursa stepped back, her chest sinking in disappointment as she realised that Zuko was still ultimately reluctant to open up to her, to trust her. "Look... I'll see you around okay Mum?"

"All right." But she couldn't resist, winding her arms around him in yet another embrace, sharing for a few precious moments in that familiar, yet so utterly alien, smell and warmth. "You should come around and meet the children."

"Yes." Something struck Zuko in the pit of his stomach. He had completely forgotten that Ursa had remarried. "I will..." It seemed so completely surreal. He had _siblings._ Ursa forced a tiny smile on her lips. "I should really go."

"I'll walk you out." She seized his hand, taking her time as she left the tea shop. He followed her, complicit. Of course she was going to cling to him, it only made sense. Zuko realised only in hindsight that she was desperately trying to seek comfort from him. She was scared and lonely. He didn't see it at the time. He thought she was trying too hard to make up for lost time, in some overblown show of love and affection. He felt smothered by it. But he let her hold his hand, keeping his eyes downcast as he walked with her out of the tea shop. He wasn't looking at her.

But somebody else was.

"She's sure got nerve." A small cluster of men watched her retreating figure carefully, over teacups long emptied.

"You going to tell Enlai about this?" The youngest of the three spoke up. They were all reasonably comfortable bureaucrats, taking advantage of the cheap prices and bottomless cups. Purse strings were being pulled tightly.

"That was his _wife_ Cheng, course I'm gonna tell him." The man leaned back, biting his lip. "Did you get a look at him? He's just a boy." He shook his head. "In public. What a disgrace."

"Maybe we've got it wrong, they could just be fr-"

"Married women do not _make_ friends with young men." Cheng cut over his friend. "And they don't spend time with them alone. Right Wei?"

"Quite right." Wei nodded, rising from his seat. "Cheng, go and catch them. Keep watch and find out where the boy works." He shook his head again. "One of the most popular tea-houses in town. Silly girl."

"That's why I think-"

"I didn't ask what you thought, Gen." The man snapped as Cheng slipped out of the shop. He fell silent. "I always said there was something strange about her." He rested his chin on tented fingers.

Whatever secret she wove, it was starting to unravel.

* * *

I'm already working like mad on the next chapter. Don't expect it to take too long.


	28. Chapter 28

Woohooo another update!

My life is a bit more organised at the moment. I have long periods at night where it's just me and my computer. And that's good. I like that. I think I'm getting a second wind with this fic. I felt bogged down before but now I'm starting to feel like I can actually finish this. It's a great feeling.

* * *

"Lee, where on earth have you _been?"_

Zuko was attacked as soon as he entered the shop floor. Xi Quan clung to him, his thin hands shaking uncontrollably. He smelled very strongly of drink. Zuko stared about the airy room slowly, hot shame and guilt running through his chest as he took in the destruction around him.

_Now_ he remembered what happened last night.

"Ruined! All of it!" Xi Quan's knees were weak. Zuko looped an arm under his shoulder, guiding him carefully to the nearest chair. "Everything broken or stolen... I-I don't know how..." He was blabbering unconsciously, no longer looking at Zuko, who was fighting back the urge to be sick.

_What have I done to him?_

Zuko looked down at his feet. The ground was scattered with broken pieces of brick, scraps of paper, and loose tiles. It wasn't just him – people must have come in afterwards, shaking the place up and taking everything they saw value in. There was barely anything left, and what did remain, was broken and scattered about. Zuko closed his eyes, the earth pitching horribly beneath his feet. It seemed like _such_ a good idea at the time. How could he have been so thoughtless and idiotic?

"Are you insured?" Zuko asked quietly, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. It was a new idea, but business owners had quickly taken to taking out policies to protect their meagre livelihoods against theft and arson. "Surely you would be covered against something like this."

"They won't pay." Xi Quan hiccupped. "Not all of it. Not enough to rebuild. They said they can give me half. I'm lucky to get that. Some places have already gone out of business." His head sank into his hands, the man emitting a low moan. "What will I _do_ Lee?"

"You want my advice?" Zuko crouched down so he was eye level with his boss. Xi Quan looked up, his eyes red. What could he say to him, really? How could he absolve himself? Zuko decided to be dreadfully practical. "Take the money and run. Get what you can and leave this town. Find somewhere nice on the coast or in the woods. Even if you could rebuild, they're just going to shut you down." Xi Quan's stare had dropped to his lap. Why didn't Zuko tell him? He would be overjoyed, wouldn't he, to know that one of his presses was still safe?

Because he knew he was in the wrong. Zuko had _destroyed_ the place, and left it open to be ransacked. He didn't have the nerve to tell Xi Quan the truth because he knew the man would hate him. Zuko rose to his feet, crossing his arms. He crossed into the back room, surveying the damage. Several of the large cabinets had been toppled over, their drawers utterly ransacked. The lead tiles crunched beneath his feet as he stepped gingerly over the broken furniture. Everything was in pieces. It would take days to clean this up.

"It's not like the place itself is damaged." Zuko tried to sound optimistic as he entered the main room. "Well..." He stared at the broken hole in the wall. "Mostly." He swallowed. "You can still get a good price for the building."

"I spent forty years in these walls." Xi Quan's words were beginning to slur. "I started as an illiterate sweeper and became the master of this press. I've made this my life, Lee. I can't just walk away from it." His head dropped onto his chin, face crumpling. Zuko turned away from the man, the remorse threatening to consume him entirely. He'd done some terrible things before – some monstrous, inhumane atrocities. He'd _killed_ before, yet he had never felt so overwhelmingly guilty and shameful in his young life. What he had done was more emotionally reprehensible, more personal. He had destroyed a man's fading livelihood, and stayed to watch the fallout, in a private intimacy. Zuko cursed himself inwardly, at once longing to own up to his actions, and knowing that he could never look him in the eye and speak the truth.

One thing was for certain – his apprenticeship was done. Before the week was out, Zuko would be back in the wilderness, scrapping with thousands of other fit young men like him, desperate for any bit of coin they could lay their hands on.

And he completely deserved it.

* * *

The moment Ursa opened the door to her home, she knew something was wrong.

It wasn't the strange man standing in the hallway, fingering the edge of one of her husband's most prized paintings. It wasn't the housemaid dragging a heavy trunk down the carpeted stairs. It wasn't the nurse muttering to herself with a pencil and paper, half-heartedly rocking her youngest son to a fitful sleep. It was Enlai, who sat on the foot of the stairs with his head bowed, spectacles dangling carelessly from her hand.

"Enlai?" Ursa closed the door behind her, a knot tightening in her stomach. The man at the picture turned to her, looked her up and down, and with a smirk, made a note on his pad and walked into the sitting room. Her nurse looked up, and without comment thrust the infant into her arms. Her husband didn't seem to have heard her, his head remaining bowed. She sat down beside him quietly, touching him on the shoulder. He jerked up as though he had been burned, eyes fixated on her. He looked absolutely shattered.

"Ta Min." His voice shook. "I... I wondered where you were..." Enlai looked back down at the paper in his trembling hand, his heart hammering madly in his chest. This was what he had been dreading, most of all. He didn't know how he could do this. He was terrified. "I should have waited, but I thought you would be home, and-" His voice broke off, and he screwed his eyes shut tightly. Ursa watched the man silently, the fear growing in her stomach. He was an extremely mild-mannered man; courteous, soft-spoken, shy. Everything Ozai wasn't. It was why she loved him. "I've sold the house."

"_What?"_ Her voice was a piteous cry, more plaintive than she liked. Ursa was surprised more than horrified. Enlai set down the papers, and thrust his glasses back on his face, taking her free hand. "Why?"

"Preventative measures." He spoke like a true man of letters. "Our position isn't economically sound. We would be best to take what we can get now, while there's still a market." He was stroking her hand gently, squeezing her fingers. He was crippled with guilt. He thought he was robbing her of a hard-fought position and tantalising dreams.

"Are we leaving Ba Sing Se?" It was her immediate fear. She had struggled, for years, to stitch together a ragged little life in the city. Even if they were on false pretences, she had children, a husband, relatives, and friends. And now her _son._ Ursa wouldn't leave them for anything.

"No, no." He shook his head. "There's no need now." Enlai released his hold, and retrieved his papers, going through the numbers yet again. "I've found the top floor of a quaint little house we can rent. It's a little smaller," and shabbier, although he wouldn't mention that, "but we'll live comfortably enough. The price I got for the house is good, it will pay off all our debts with plenty left over." It was true, Enlai struggled to live within his means. Even he, with his magical flair for balancing the most questionable books, couldn't make a lifestyle fit for his family on a clerks' salary without taking out a few loans. "It may seem insane right now, but I promise you Ta Min, we'll weather this better than most if we prepare now. Please-"

"Oh, stop babbling." She sounded terse when she didn't mean to. Ursa leaned in to kiss her husband on the cheek. The infant in her arms squealed at the movement, fussing. "Hush Kazu." Ursa admonished him. "You think I care how we live?" He looked up from the paper. She force a smile, feeling tired and strung out. Ursa was too emotionally drained from the morning, and this new revelation had no effect on her. As it was, she didn't care. What was a change of address? She had seen both extreme luxury and intolerable poverty in her time. Ursa defied the throes of social class. If anything, she was most upset that he had made the decision without her. "Where is the new house?"

"Near the factories." Enlai admitted, the quaver slowly leaving his voice. Ursa fought back a shudder. It wasn't the worst part of town, but it had a well-deserved reputation. "It's on a market square, well-lit at night – well." He coughed awkwardly. It _was_.

"Rooms?"

"Three bedrooms, separate sitting and eating rooms, and an attic with a window. Plenty of space for us all." His voice grew slowly with confidence. He expected tears and pleading from this woman – really, he should have known better. Despite her pretty looks and slim white hands, her arms were deceptively strong. She was wonderfully delicate and tough as old boots all at once. "Now, I have to take an inventory of furniture. We can't keep it all..." He looked at her apologetically. "You're going to have to go through your things."

"All right." She took it all in her stride, gently rocking the baby in her arms. "I'll pack light."

"No no, not light." He said hurriedly, touching her shoulder. "Just... frugal." Enlai rose to his feet. "Thank you for understanding Ta Min."

"Of course." She turned her attention to Kazu, her infant son, listening to Enlai's footsteps fade into the sitting room. "Mummy can handle this, can't she?" She murmured in the baby's ear. "If she can hold her own against the worst men in the world, what's moving house, hm?" She bounced Kazu on her knee.

The baby laughed.

* * *

He could hear footsteps.

At first, he thought the low _thud_ was his own heart beating in his ears. But his own pulse in his throat thudded differently. Faster. It rose in anticipation.

_It was somebody else._

Tears of relief clung to his long lashes. Something deep within him, that had been stretched and strained to its absolute limits, broke. The cry rose from his chest, and on a simple, base instinct, he arched his back, screaming as loud as his withered lungs could let him.

"_Help!"_ His throat rasped painfully. It wasn't a scream. It was the hoarse, brittle cry of a soul that was breathing its last. He didn't know if the faceless footsteps on the other side had even heard. He sucked in another lungful of air to try and shout, but his voice was dead in his throat, and he could manage only a pitiful groan. He realised then that every muscle in his body was as tight as a coiled spring. The boy who didn't know his name fell slack onto the mattress, panting from the strain.

The footsteps had stopped. He thought with a sickening horror that perhaps they had already left, his single cry had gone unheard. The single candle of hope he held close to him in the unwavering darkness sputtered, and went out.

Someone was at the door.

His head shot up, the rest of him immobile. He heard the unmistakeable clink and rasp of a lock being drawn at the door. A creak. And then the room was flooded with light.

It wasn't much, really. A lantern burning in the hall cast a sliver of dull orange light into the tiny cell as the door was pushed open. But to the nameless boy it was blinding. He had no physical memory of ever seeing light, and he screwed his eyes against the painful glare. At the same time, he struggled weakly against his chains, only partially aware of the incoherent babble of words that leaked pitifully from his mouth.

And as soon as it came, it was gone. The door closed, and he was left alone in the darkness.

* * *

Sokka awoke with surprisingly little ceremony.

It was as though he had risen from an extremely long sleep. His neck was stiff, his throat dry, and mind heavy and clouded. It was the dull pain in his side that flared up when he tried to rise, that sparked his foggy memory.

_There was a fight._

Sokka's eyes snapped open, and he snapped up, straight as a board. His breath died in his chest. _Katara and Dad oh Spirits what happened are they all right?_ He made to jump out of bed, when a light snore resounded near his left. Sokka rubbed his sleepy eyes, blinking.

Aang was snoring right beside him. Sokka frowned, and for the first time noticed the three sleeping figures in the cabin, shadowy and hazy in the dull lamplight. Aang was on his back, a hand thrown over his eyes to cover the light. Toph lay stretched out along the foot of the wide bed, resting her cheek on a crooked elbow. Her blind eyes were closed, chest rising falling steadily. Katara sat just beside Sokka, on a spindly bedside stool. Her head was propped up by her arm, and Sokka curiously waved his hand before her face. Nothing.

Sokka leaned against the pillows, letting out a little half-laugh. It seemed so silly, in a way. The four of them crammed into this little cabin, Katara sleeping where she sat up. He didn't realise that she'd sunk into a doze just a few minutes before, after a strained bedside vigil. Sokka pushed the blankets away carefully, trying not to wake the three bodies around him. His mouth tasted of sand, and his insides groaned with hunger. He needed something to eat and drink, _now._

He managed to make his way out of the room without disturbing anybody, making his way silently down the hallway. It was punctuated with a few hanging lanterns, and he seized the first he could. It was warm in his hands. Sokka tried to piece together the fight in his mind, turning the flashing images over and over in his head. He remembered his father killing the commander of the Raiders, and Katara rushing up to him. He remembered intercepting a soldier, coming away with blood and pain. The last thing he could recall was his father's tearful face. Then everything faded into blackness.

They must have won. He wouldn't be free to walk the halls otherwise. Sokka let his fingers trail on the walls, shivering. He wore nothing but a pair of trousers, and the air below deck was cold. Clothes second. Food and drink first. He wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into a leg of something roasted and fleshy. Ox-cow or ostrich-horse would be good. He would even take moose-lion at this point. Sokka closed his eyes, visions of food dancing before his eyes. He could almost smell it.

The kitchens were empty. Sokka rattled around, but he couldn't find much. A couple of pieces of ships' biscuit, some raw flour, a few wilted vegetables. The image of food vanished before his eyes, and he had to content himself with the few bits and pieces he could find. The water casks were bone dry, and Sokka sucked on his tongue silently, his mouth fuzzy. Maybe Katara had some fresh water stored in her skin. He thought briefly about waking her up, but decided against it, heaving himself up from the lopsided table. His side was little more than an uncomfortable niggle at this point, and he was able to walk quite freely about.

_Dad._ Sokka turned on his heel, picking up his pace. Shame grew in his stomach. Why didn't he try to find him sooner? Sokka wasn't worried about whether or not he was okay – he knew his father, and had an absolute belief that he was invincible. He wanted most of all to show his father that he too, was all right. He wanted to show off the mark. He was even a little proud. His first battle scar. His proof.

The door was locked. Sokka frowned as he tried the handle, but it didn't budge. He stepped away from the door, thinking. It must have been very late, somewhere near dawn. He was most likely sleeping. But why sleep with the door locked? It was a stupid risk.

"Dad?" Sokka kept his voice low, pressing his cheek against the cool metal of the cabin door. The passageway was lined with small rooms, one or two bunks in each, and he didn't want to awaken any of his fellow tribesmen. "Dad, are you awake? It's me, Sokka." His stomach complained, loudly. Sokka waited for a few moments with slumped shoulders. He stepped away from the door, turning to leave, when the sound of creaking metal met his ears. Sokka paused, his eyes meeting with Hakoda. He looked like a skeleton in Sokka's low-hanging lamplight. The door swung open, and Hakoda engulfed his son in a ferocious hug wordlessly. The breath was knocked out of Sokka, the lantern slipping from his hand, shattering on the ground. Hakoda wasn't just embracing his son; he was _leaning_ on him, his knees weak. There were no words in any language that could justify the emotions roaring in his chest. For a moment, just a moment, he forgot about what had happened, and what he had done. But eventually, Hakoda willed himself to stand on his own feet, attempting to regain what little composure he had left.

"Come in." His voice was cracked and disused. Sokka followed his father obediently, taking a seat on the edge of the lower bunk as Hako locked the door. "Here." A shirt was thrust into Sokka's hands, and he pulled it over his head eagerly. "How... How are you feeling."

"I'm fine." Sokka forced himself to smile, trying to placate his father. He could see the man was teetering dangerously close to the edge. "Just a bit sore." Hakoda sat down heavily beside him, head sinking into his hands.

"I should never have let this happen." His voice was shaking. Sokka rested a hand on his shoulder, listening wordlessly. "I let my emotions get in the way. I ignored the safety of my men, o-of _you..."_ Hakoda shook his head. "It won't happen again."

"We're in enemy territory, everything is a risk." Sokka tried his hardest to be practical, diplomatic. "Nobody blames you Dad. Not really." But Hakoda couldn't look at him.

"Three of our men were killed." His voice was empty and hollow. Sokka froze. "Paka, Kamik, and Ulo. We fought them off, but..." The teenager closed his eyes, fighting the urge to be sick. He knew Ulo since he was a boy. He was only a few years older than Sokka himself, the closest thing Sokka really had to a friend throughout his childhood. He was just nineteen. "We're going to commit them to the ocean in the morning." Hakoda was beside himself. "_I_ did this to them." Sokka was blinking rapidly, trying to shake the tears from his eyes. "It's my job to keep my men safe." Hakoda breathed. "The way I acted today was shameful. I can never be forgiven for what happened to them. To _you."_ Sokka turned to look his father, starting to feel disconcerted at his father's words. "I am not fit to lead these fine men." Hakoda looked as though he had aged ten years in the space of a few hours. Sokka's stomach lurched, and he let out a muffled cry. He couldn't handle his father talking like this. It shook him to his very core. "These men need a leader who will look out for them, and place their well-being over his own selfish needs."

"Dad, no-"

"They deserve better than what happened this afternoon." Hakoda spoke with resolve; he had been turning this over in his mind for a very long time. "They deserve a Chief who will be entirely selfless. Who will not fall to weakness and cause needless death." He shook his head, eyes closed. He felt tired. Tired and old.

"Dad, you can't-"

"Traditionally, the elders decide on who will be our next Chief." Hakoda tried to speak with conviction, a frank practicality, but he could not keep the tremor from his voice. "But I will let the other men decide. They can put it to a vote. They know better than anyone."

"Dad, _please-"_

"I won't leave them, not while I can fight, but I cannot stand at the helm and give them orders. Not after the reckless things I've done."

"Dad, _stop it!"_ Sokka stood up, his eyes dry. "_Listen_ to yourself! You had a moment of weakness. We all do, all right? You think I haven't done things I'm ashamed of? You think I don't have moments where I wonder if I can do this anymore? You don't think I never question if I deserve this responsibility? I do, all the time. And it was you, _you_ who told me that none of that mattered, that I had the spirit of a warrior and a leader." Hakoda stared at his feet. "Dad, what you did today was human." Sokka sat down beside his father. He paused for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. "You wanted vengeance because someone you loved was taken from you." His voice hitched. "I-I understand Dad, completely. She was my _Mum_. You don't think I want them to pay for what they did to us?" Hakoda was wringing his hands, eyes half-lidded.

"Kya wouldn't have wanted this." He still spoke in that familiar defeated, hollow tone. Sokka's shoulders slumped as he realised his little speech at failed. "She would never have wanted blood spilled in her name."

"Well, she's not here." Sokka spoke very quietly. Hakoda pressed his lips together, setting his jaw. It took every ounce of him to maintain his crumbling composure. It was a deadly blow, to hear those words from his son's mouth. True as they were, it was a fresh knife wound in his heart, stabbing at the mutilated, broken mess. Sokka took in a sharp breath, trying a different tack. "Dad, I've... I've lost someone recently, too." He shifted a little closer to Hakoda, watching his twisting, turning fingers. "I haven't told you this before but... When we were in the North Pole, I became, well, close with Chief Arnook's daughter." Hakoda turned rapidly, staring at him. "I swore that I would protect her with my life, and I would never let anything happen to her." The rest of the story hung in the air, already told. Hakoda had heard that Yue was dead. "If I could lay my hands on the man that did that to her..." Sokka didn't finish, he didn't need to. "Nobody is ever perfect. We do some really terrible things. Sometimes, we don't mean to. Sometimes, we think we're doing what is right." Sokka could feel the sharp blue eyes staring at him, boring into his soul. He laid it out for him, openly. "When I was alone in the South Pole, I wanted so much to prove myself to you, to show that I could be the perfect warrior. Even a week ago, when we took this ship together, I still tried to show how good I could be. I wanted to be that perfect person." Sokka sighed. Devestating realisation had dawned on him, in the quiet little cabin. "And I know now that there's just no such thing as perfect. This idealised warrior I was trying to be, _you, _he didn't exist. He never did. I used to think that you were the most amazing man in the world Dad – I still do," He added quickly, correcting himself. "But I used to think that you were completely faultless. But you made a mistake. And yes, we paid, but..." Sokka mulled it over in his head, trying to articulate the rambling, twisting thoughts in his head. "It shows that you're human. You shouldn't ever try to be perfect. You'll always fail if you do. You're capable of doing wrong, like the rest of us. And... And I'm _happy,_ knowing that. Because if my Dad can make a mistake, and still be the most amazing, loyal, and brave person I know, then I know that I'm going to be fine." Sokka looked awkwardly down at his feet, unsure of how his father would react to his little speech. Hakoda stared at him silently, his chest flushed with that strange mixture of emotions. But a new sensation rose in his heart. Pride. It swelled within him, leaving him almost euphoric. What Sokka had said touched something deep within himself – his own personal fears and uncertainties. His soul mirrored Sokka's in that he was enveloped in that same personal journey for that idealised, unattainable model of cultural perfection. He pushed himself farther and father in the pursuit of greatness, the same way his father had done. And his father, before him. But Sokka, with just a few words, swept aside generations of self-conscious doubt in his statement that they were all only human, and that was all they should aspire to be. Sokka was enveloped in another bone-crushing hug.

But this time, Hakoda wasn't leaning on him.

* * *

He wasn't going back to sleep.

Zuko turned on his side, staring out into the dark. He couldn't see much in the night, but he knew the little room intimately. Two sets of bunks against the wall, a lopsided chest of drawers beneath the window. His own trunk at the foot of his bed. Three hooks on the back wall for clothing. A faded rug across the uneven floorboards. The room was arranged with almost military precision. Contraband had to be hidden underneath the beds. Shoes in a line by the door, biggest to smallest. Five boys, aged five to twenty-one, shared four beds; the room was too small to afford clutter.

Zuko thought it was deliciously comfortable. One thing that struck him, was that the little room was _always_ warm. No matter how the wind howled outside, Zuko never needed more than his thin blanket. Zuko listened to the soft pattern of breathing around him, punctuated by the odd murmur. Somebody was snoring. If he wasn't so strung out, he would have been lulled back to sleep in minutes. But there was no rest for Zuko. He hadn't slept a full night in over a week.

He was cracking up. Zuko sat up carefully, paying heed to the top bunk above him. He crossed his legs, leaning against the bare plaster wall. Exhaustion left his limbs dead and eyes itchy, but his mind was alert. There was no way he could sleep with what went on in his head. He felt as though someone had him by the head and feet, and they were stretching him, seeing how far they could pull before he snapped in half.

His bending. His mother. Jin. The city. Xi Quan. Azula and his father, too of course. And Uncle. They all whirled around in his head. Every time he closed his eyes, somebody's face flashed before him, and he was left feeling sick. He felt as though he left everybody down, every where he turned, there was somebody who he had hurt. He'd failed everyone. Most of all, himself. Zuko clenched his hands into fists, willing, for what felt like the hundredth time, for flames to appear in his palms. He knew it was _there._ He still felt warm. Fire still obeyed his hand. But nothing could make the flames burst anew. Fire ran through his veins, but it was blocked. He didn't have the rage within him or the understanding of the sun to create fire. He was still stuck in a sick limbo, and he was getting desperate. A Prince of the Fire Nation who couldn't bend. It sounded like a joke.

Somebody was up. Zuko's eyes snapped open. Through the other side of the wall, he heard gentle pottering. The fire being lit, the pot being filled. Plates being shifted. So their mother was up. Zuko thought for a moment, and scooted forward, rising to his feet. He pulled on his clothes haphazardly, blundering about in the dark. He may as well get up now. Perhaps a cup of tea would help him feel better. That was something that his Uncle always said. Zuko's stomach cramped at the memory, and he forced the image out of his mind.

"Morning." He forced a smile at the woman crouched in front of the stove. Shan started, looking over at the boy. "Can't sleep." Zuko explained, sitting on the edge of a chair. "I heard you and I thought I might as well get up."

"Fair enough." Shan blew on the fire, trying to coax life back into last night's dying embers with wood shavings. "Breakfast isn't ready yet, but you'll be first up." First up got first dish. It was the rule. She sat down with a groan. Nothing else to do until the water heated up. "Anything planned for today?" Zuko gave a half shrug. "I heard about Xi Quan." She clicked her tongue. "Terrible business."

"Who told you?" Zuko raised his head, heartrate quickening. He hadn't told anyone that he'd essentially lost his job – apart from Jin. How could she have found out?

"It gets around." Shan got up from her chair, testing the water with a finger. Still lukewarm. "I spoke to my sister yesterday, she knows you work there. Is he going to try to start again?"

"Not much point." There was a painful knot in Zuko's stomach. "They're all going to be shut down anyway. I told him to take what he can get and leave."

"That's very practical of you." Shan hunted around, looking for a certain tea she knew was wrapped in a twist of paper. "He won't take you with him, then?"

"I don't deserve it." The tone in Shan's voice made her hands still. She turned, looking very hard at him. He was guilty of something.

"Why do you say that?" She watched his reaction carefully, in the light of two candles and a lamp. Zuko looked up at her, his eyes oddly wide. He lowered his gaze to his knees. "Lee?"

"I did it." He rested his head on clenched fists, sounded oddly hollow. "I broke in the night before and took all the most valuable things. I thought it was the smart thing, to make sure we got them before the Fire Nation did." He may as well tell her. If Jin and her brother knew, everyone would eventually find out.

"In theory, yes." Shan sat down, aghast. She thought he was such a smart, practical boy. Why would he do something so reckless? Somebody must have put him up to it. "Have you told him?"

"No. How can I?" Zuko ran his fingers through his hair, making the black locks stand on end. "How can I look him in the eye and say I destroyed his livelihood? He won't understand why I did it. _I _don't understand."

"Do the honourable thing." Shan said firmly. Steam rose from the hot water. And she set aside enough to make tea. Into the rest went what was left of last nights' cooked rice, two handfuls of azuki beans, and a little ground ginseng root. Her Juk was frugal but invigorating. "If somebody wronged me, I would rather they tell it to my face than try to hide it." Shan let a large pot of green tea on the table to stew, turning back to her pot of Juk.

"He'll hate me."

"Probably." She clicked her tongue. The poor thing. She did feel sorry for the troubled boy. Sure, he screwed up, but it wasn't as though her own sons were innocent. He obviously had a lot going on, more than what he was letting on. "He might see it as a blessing, in the end."

"Maybe." Zuko looked at his knees, glumly. He was too tired for this. _Do the honourable thing._ He sighed heavily. She was right, of course.

But he'd stopped doing 'the honourable thing' a long time ago, it seemed.

* * *

There was nothing more invigorating than early morning air.

Azula loved it. She rose with the sun, every morning, and every morning without fail, she would stand in meditation and contemplation for several minutes in the cool quiet, watching the sky alight with fire, feeling the first rays of the sun on her face. She stood now on the prow of the ship with her arms behind her, watching the rising sun breaking over the waves. It was so soothing. For a few minutes, she was able to forget everything that threatened to torment or break her. She was on top of the world. She felt as though she was flying. She'd always wanted to fly.

"Princess Azula!" Already, there was someone to annoy her. She closed her eyes, forcing back a groan, and turning, silently. The Fire Nation commander prostrated himself before her, forehead touching the ground, before rising breathlessly. He had been waiting for her to rise. "It seems the rebel leader we took from Ba Sing Se has awakened."

"All right." Why were they telling her this? Azula stared, waiting for him to leave. "Yes?"

"Well, it's just..." The commander looked at his feet. "He's behaving very oddly. Your Highness." He added quickly. "He seems to have no memory at all, and it's rather distressing. I was wondering if we could consult a physician when we next land."

"Ugh." She rolled her eyes. Why were they asking her about this? Did this really need to be brought to her attention? Azula had forgotten almost entirely about the rebel boy in her care. She had far more pressing matters. At least he wasn't going to die on her. He needed to be fit and healthy for his arrival in the Fire Nation. These sorts of public displays were less exciting when they were already dying. But it could be a problem. People may have hang-ups over punishing a man who couldn't remember his actions. He might protest his innocence. That certainly wouldn't give people a good feeling. "I'll handle it." She would get him into the light, draw him out. He wasn't going to talk to any of her soldiers, and he certainly wouldn't drop the act for a doctor.

"Very good, your Highness." He bowed deeply, backing away from her. Azula sighed as he left, and turned back to the ocean, inhaling a deep lungful of cold, salty air.

Finally, she could finish her meditation in peace.

* * *

The new place was going up without a hitch.

Renshu paused to watch its construction on the way to work. As a carpenter of moderate interest, working mainly with bricks and wood, he watched the laying of steel with interest. Judging from its foundations, the building was going to be at least ten floors in height, looming over the factories that surrounded it. General Mung was smart. He didn't want his stronghold to be in the traditional palace, screened off from the city with rolling lawns and rows of walls. His centre of power was going to be in the true heart of the city, the densely-populated industrial core. Nobody was going to get away from him.

The sign had been painted on a large sheet of plywood, spiked into a patch of dirt. A large smelting plant and a paper mill had been demolished to make way for the new building. Rather than expand on what had been built, Mung ordered the entire area to be cleared, declaring he would build from the ground up an administrative and judicial stronghold the likes of which Ba Sing Se had never seen.

He wanted to build something that would scare the shit out of them.

A week. That was what the sign claimed. One week, and the centre would be up and running, ready to "supervise and execute all new administrative decrees." Renshu was convinced the characters for 'execute' had been coloured in slightly blacker ink. He'd seen the new laws. Everybody had. They were plastered on every stretch of wall that the Fire Nation could touch. It was the ninth decree that had him worried most of all. "All earth benders are to present themselves at the administration office for identification and processing." He wasn't sure of the exact wording. It had him and most of his friends talking. What was identification? A card? A special badge? His friend Mao Ling said they might tattoo them with a number. That way, there was no fudging or disguise. One man thought they could just be taken out back and put down, like a lame ostrich-horse.

Whatever it was, he would face up to it in a week. Some people could slip under the net without being caught, but not him. Too many people knew where he came from. He thought briefly of writing a will, but he realised when he sat down with a paper that he had nothing to pass on to his wife and children. Nothing but a fading name that would be remembered only by a handful of elderly, a pile of unpaid bills, and a bending pedigree that was being washed away with each passing generation. Nothing he would wish on anybody.

Renshu turned away from the sticks of the building, walking briskly with his head down, trying not to catch the gaze of the soldiers he passed by.

* * *

"Mai, have you been in bed all morning?"

Mai lay with the blankets around her waist, propped up by a thick stack of pillows. With one hand she held a book to her eyes, the other folded behind her head. The remains of breakfast was cast on a tray, resting on the floor. Mai's eyes flicked from the text to Azula, who stood in the doorway with her arms crossed.

"Does it look like I've been up?" She gestured around the room. Mai wasn't often a lazy person, but on mornings like this, she struggled to find something to do. They were two weeks away from the capital city, with no real activities to engage in on board. Ty Lee had the stupid bear to play with, and Azula was always busy with odd little jobs and commands, but Mai had nothing to entertain her. She hated going out on the deck, with the cold, salty air. The crew were all idiots, and she couldn't talk to the Dai Li. They unnerved her. "What do you want?" Mai was forgetting her place. Azula bit her tongue however, stepping into the little room.

"I have a little problem. Remember the rebel we found in Ba Sing Se?" Mai nodded, closing her book. "He's been blubbering about the place, claiming he has no idea who or where he is. The guards think he has some sort of amnesia." Azula rolled her eyes. "He's obviously faking to try and get some sort of mercy. I don't have time for it. I need you to get the truth out of him."

"What?" Mai set the book aside, sitting up a little. "Why?"

"Because, people like him are useless when they sit there denying everything. Can you imagine what a mess his execution would be, if he claimed his innocence until his last breath? Someone might say we have the wrong person."

"What if you do have the wrong guy?"

"I don't." Her eyes narrowed. "I don't make mistakes like this. I don't care what you do or how you do it, but I want a confession from him." Mai slid out of bed slowly, a deep frown on her face. "What."

"Why me?" The girl crossed her arms as she stood up. Azula shrugged.

"I thought you might like something to do." She examined a fingernail. "I can trust _you_ with this. I thought about Ty Lee, she does get along better with boys." Her lip twitched in a smirk. "But you know she gets. I can trust you to keep your head."

"Of course you can." Mai let her nightclothes puddle on the floor, reaching for her favourite scarlet dress.

"No, don't wear that." Azula approached her, shaking her head. "Remember the green clothes we wore when we left Ba Sing Se?" Mai nodded. "Wear those."

"You want me to pretend I'm from the Earth Kingdom?" Mai was frowning again. "I can't fake something like that. Anyway, what would an Earth Kingdom be doing, walking free on the ship?"

"You're smart, aren't you? Think of something." Mai didn't respond. Azula smirked again. "You don't have a problem with this, do you?"

"Of course not." Mai shook her head. Inwardly, she was struggling to process what Azula had ordered of her. Was this some sort of test of loyalty? Was this punishment for Zuko? What was the point of this? Did she want to psychologically torture him? "I'll get him to talk."

"I know you will." Azula turned away from her, heading out of the room. "If you need me for anything, I'll be up on the bridge. But you won't need me, will you?" Azula had made it clear; she didn't want to be disturbed by any details about this. She wanted the job done. Until then, it didn't interest her.

"Of course not." Mai watched her leave, crouching down before the carved trunk against the wall. She rifled through, the green fabric plainly visible amongst the various shades of red and black. Mai rose to her feet with the dress in her hands, catching herself in the mirror. She didn't look anything like an Earth Kingdom girl. Her eyes were the wrong colour and shape. She was too pale. Her hair was all wrong. But she'd done it before, lying about her identity to the most powerful man in the Earth Kingdom, and successfully tricking him. This would be a cinch.

No one was better than her at hiding their true emotions.

* * *

Zuko's nerve had failed him, yet again.

He'd spent another morning helping his boss to clean up, sweeping up the tiny tiles and at Xi Quan's behest, throwing them out. The ageing man mainly sat there quietly amongst the ruin, watching his apprentice work. Zuko couldn't say anything to him as he sat there in his brooding silence. His voice was stuck in his throat, whenever he tried. He knew it was wrong, he knew the best thing to do was to own up. Do the honourable thing. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't bear the weight of the blame.

So he left with tight lips. Xi Quan dismissed him for lunch, telling him not to bother coming back today. He was going to go home and sort through some paperwork, there wasn't much left to clean. Zuko didn't take any pay. He didn't expect any. The contents of the ransacked cashbox lay in the bottom of a trunk tucked away in Minsheng's back storage room.

Zuko stopped for a bite to eat, spending the very last of his copper coins. He couldn't go home and expect to be fed by Jin's mother, not when he didn't have anything to give in return. It wasn't fair on them, when they themselves were starting to struggle. He ate his bland noodles in a shadowy corner, picking morosely at his food. He didn't realise that he was being watched.

Zuko didn't go back home right away. Instead he wandered along the main bazaar, taking in for what could be the last time, the local smells, foods, and colour. Who knew if this would survive the Fire Nation purge? It wasn't long before he began to feel the familiar sensation of being overwhelmed, there were too _many _sights and smells and people, and he ducked into a side street, trying to clear his head.

It was this side street where he was attacked.

The four men came out of nowhere, catching Zuko entirely off guard. He was pushed to the ground, and as he sprung up to defend himself, was hooked behind his leg, and held down on the ground. They weren't particularly strong, but they had the element of surprise, and despite a valiant attempt on Zuko's part to escape the scuffle, he wound up forced on his knees, with a knife against his throat. He'd lashed out, caught one of them across the face, and he nursed a bloodied nose, glaring reproachfully at Zuko. He kept absolutely still, painfully aware of the knife pressed against his skin. He was held down by two men, the third preoccupied with his nose. The fourth man was staring at him in complete silence. He wore glasses. None of them looked like desperate pickpockets or thieves. They were too tidy and well-dressed to be muggers. Zuko cursed himself for being so foolish. He should never have let his guard down, not even for a moment.

"Is this him?" The bespectacled man was the first to speak. Zuko watched him carefully. He didn't look angry, or malicious. He was shocked, even frightened, his eyes very wide. "Are you sure?"

"With a scar like that? Yeah, it's him." Cold fear spread through Zuko's limbs at the voice above him. _They knew who he was._ He closed his eyes, trying desperately to think of a way out of this situation. Surely he could do something. Catch one of them off guard. But the knife was hovering over his jugular, and the two men held his arms down fast. He could fight them off, but not without getting his throat slashed.

"He's just a boy." He breathed. Zuko opened his eyes, watching the stranger step towards him. "How old are you?" What sort of question was that? Zuko licked his lips, opening his mouth.

"Sixteen." The mans' wide eyes flickered up to his friends, and he shook his head slowly. Zuko clenched his fists, trying to roll his shoulders. His arms were forced painfully behind his back, stretching at the sockets. "What do you want from me?" He spoke up sounding scared rather than defiant.

"Shut it, you." He was cuffed heavily around the head. "Enlai, I promise you, it's him. I know he's young but damn, we know what we saw."

"What do you me-" Zuko tried to talk, receiving another blow about the head in return.

"We _saw_ you, you little brat!" The man shouted very close in his ear. "With this man's wife at the Green Leaf!" Zuko's mouth fell open. The tea shop where he'd met his mother yesterday. Everything fell into place. He was relived at first. They didn't know his true identity. He was still just Lee to them, no, not even that, just a nameless shadow they'd seen. "C'mon Enlai, let him have it."

"No!" Zuko shook his head furiously, wincing as a thin red line welled up in his neck. He struggled to keep still. "Listen to me, please-" Zuko gasped as the air was knocked out of him with a rather painful blow to the stomach. He looked up at the quiet, well-mannered man who had just kicked him.

"Stay away from Ta Min." The wide-eyed confusion from his face was gone. He balled his hands into fists. Zuko could feel the man who held him nodding in approval.

"No please," Zuko begged, steeling himself for another blow. "You have it all wrong, I-"

"You were hugging and kissing her in a damn tea shop in front of everyone!" The voice shouted in Zuko's ear. Zuko closed his eyes, feeling sick. _How could we be so stupid?_ A muffled cry came out as he was hit around the head again, his ears ringing. This was spinning out of control. Did they mean to beat him to death, or just enough to warn him? What had happened to his mother? Would they punish her too, over this? Zuko received another kick in the stomach, trying very hard to force down the urge to cough. The knife already wore several drops of his blood.

"She-" Zuko forced down an involuntary cough, his torso spasming. His arms were numb. "She's my-" The man called Enlai stepped back, looking a little guilty. He didn't mean to _hurt_ him, at least, not badly. Zuko sucked in a brisk lungful of air, forcing himself to speak.

"She's my _mother."  
_

* * *

I'm bursting to write the next one. So many things are happening in my head and my fingers are itching to get them all out. You won't wait long for the next one, I promise.


	29. Chapter 29

**Woooo. I can't believe I wrote this in two weeks. After feeling blocked and disinterested for a year, I'm all of a sudden feeling reinvigorated. This can only be good.**

* * *

They made port some time before noon.

The first thing they all did was rush to the nearest restaurant, ordering huge sides of meat, steaming vegetables, and tall mugs of ale. Hakoda didn't blame them; they'd been lean on food for days, and ran out entirely the night before. Katara even convinced Aang to cover his head and come ashore. She walked him slowly to the nearest hotel, found the softest bed, and sat with him, picking over a dish of fresh fruit and vegetables. Sokka and Toph joined the men, gorging themselves and sneaking the odd drink when they thought no one could notice them. They filled a long table, which literally groaned under the sheer weight of food. But the mood was far from cheerful. Every man was embroiled in his own thoughts. Ulo's father hadn't spoken a word, and refused to eat despite intense hunger. Bato valiantly tried to rouse chatter from the men, who stared down at their plates in glum silence. Hakoda left as soon as he'd cleared his plate, leaving money for Bato, and wandered up and down the long boardwalk in his full armour, at a loss for what to do.

It was a Fire Nation colony, a port town, encircling a wide, deep bay, protected from the worst of the cold northern winds. Although a few fishing boats dotted the calm blue sea, the town seemed to thrive mostly on the warships that docked for supplies. There were four others already in port; Hakoda did his best to avoid them, advising his men to do the same. News must have gotten out about a captured ship attacking the naval forces. The town held various food stores, maps and navigational equipment, engineers to repair broken machinery, a direct line to a rich coal mine – everything that the naval forces could possibly want or need.

They also had – something _else _that was very popular among the men. Hakoda had seen it out of the corner of his eye on the first turn. On the second, he stood outside for half a second, before turning on his heel and walking off. On the third, however, he faced the building's facade with squared shoulders, taking in a long breath. Although there was no sign, he knew what it was. The windows were blocked with thick red curtains. He heard the high, playful laugh of a woman inside. It seemed to Hakoda that the house carried a faint, musky smell of bedrooms and skin. He teetered on the edge of a decision, willing himself to step forward and take the plunge. It was something he'd considered many, many times in the nine long years since Kya had died. For the first few years, Hakoda felt dirty and shameful when the thought crossed his mind, as though the mere idea insulted her memory. He had made a commitment for life, both hers and his.

He hoped that the urges would pass as he grew older. Surely as he matured fully and settled down, it would pass, and he would happy enough with his mother and children. But if anything, they increased. He found his dreams growing more and more explicit and vivid. Hakoda felt himself sinking further, with no discernible way of pulling himself out. When he left with his men for foreign shores, the longing grew even more intense. He found himself staring at the women in their draping silks, so exotic and foreign to him. They scented themselves with perfume and coloured their lips red. He did anything to casually brush up against them. To his irrevocable shame, their porcelain skin and acres of shimmering fabric replaced Kya in his dreams.

Moving on was just part of the process. He lay awake at night, trying to convince himself that it was normal. Kya was a ghost, hovering on the edge of his memory. These women lived and breathed, they were alive and warm and near him. He closed his eyes, willing himself to bring her back in his mind, to imagine her beside him. But it didn't work. She was just a ghost. And he was left alone in his cold, lonely bed.

After Sokka had spoken to him the night before, something broke within him. The thread snapped, and he fell completely. As he paced the boardwalk, Hakoda realised that there was no shame in his thoughts or desires. He had maintained an immaculate facade of celibacy for nine years. Spirits, that was longer than their _marriage._ He couldn't comfort himself with the image of a ghost. And the desire pressed in on him, making it hard to breathe. It wasn't just the physical intimacy. It was the long, lazy mornings spent lying in a lover's arms. It was the sharing of sappy poems and love-tokens. It was the whispered conversations carrying on into the night, while the rest of the world slept. It was the simple, base knowledge that there someone who was entirely his. It was the _love._

He wouldn't find that here. Hakoda wasn't stupid. These women were paid to satisfy carnal desires only. What they provided was a cheap, hollow imitation of love. He wouldn't be able to lie with her all night and stroke her hair. He wouldn't be able to talk to her about his children. But damn, it was the closest thing to love Hakoda felt that he could get. And he needed _anything._ Just a day. An hour. A few minutes.

Hakoda steeled himself. Holding his breath, he crossed the threshold of the rather lopsided little house. There was no going back after this. Kya would lose her last hold on him forever. Hakoda was terrified to lose her.

Yet, at the same time, he ached to be free.

* * *

"Ta Min, I found these gloves. The green ones with the flowers on the wrist."

"Oh, Wen." Ursa looked up from the book in her hands. She'd forgotten that she even had gloves. When did she last wear them? She struggled to remember. The housemaid held them up with a weak smile on the threshold of the sunny little nursery.

"What did you want to do with them?" They looked like very fine gloves. The stitching was impeccable. Did Enlai give them to her when they were courting? Did she wear them at a party? Ursa cast her mind about, but she was utterly at sea. Why couldn't she remember a thing about them? And what _did_ she want with them anyway? She wasn't going to go to any soiree or dinner any time soon, not the way the city was going. Besides, she didn't like wearing gloves. They made her hands clammy. How much could she sell them for? They had to be at least three or four seasons old. Not worth half their first value.

"You have them." Ursa shifted the infant in her arms. Wen squeaked. "You're seeing this boy, aren't you?" She nodded silently. "Wear them out on the town then." They would certainly get more wear in the hands of the young, unmarried girl than the mother. The housemaid blabbed a long-winded thanks, leaving the room slowly. Ursa returned her attention to the little boy who was half asleep, lying against her. She was reading a story to him, a silly little fairy tale about an ostrich-horse who tried to catch the moon. Kazu had slept badly the night before, and Ursa was trying to lull the exhausted boy into a slumber. Ursa herself could feel her mental faculties slowly diminishing. The little room was so warm in the afternoon sun. A spider-fly buzzed in the corner of the window. The baby had finally started to snore, and Ursa lay the book on her lap, slowly rocking back and forth in the chair. Her eyelids grew heavy. She didn't notice the heavily clumping up the stairs, or the muffled voices. They were distant, apart from her. Ursa's head lolled back, and for just a minute she allowed herself slowly close her eyes, and...

"Ta Min!" Ursa jerked up as the nursery door was flung open. Startled at the sudden motion, Kazu stirred restlessly in her arms, and started to cry. Ursa's mouth fell open at the sight of Enlai storming into the sunny little room, his mouth trembling. He had been crying. Ursa hurriedly set the baby down in his cot for a moment, trying to embrace Enlai and take hold of his hand. He stepped back as though she had hit him, chest heaving in short, choking sobs. Ursa was fraught with confusion as she stared at her husband. She didn't understand what had frightened him like this. Some sort of overwhelming shock had scarred him. Enlai couldn't speak. It was the soft movement at the corner of her eye that caused Ursa to look up from the man to the figure in the doorway. Her limbs deadened in shock, and Ursa closed her eyes, feeling the earth pitch and turn beneath her. Her ears rang as she looked from Enlai to Zuko and back, a horrible pit growing in her stomach.

"No." Her voice was so small, so tiny and piteous, but they all heard her. To Enlai, it was enough. He turned away from her, wavering unsteadily on his feet. He grasped the cot to support himself, doubling over with his forehead on the wooden rim, crippled with sobs. He never could have imagined _anything _like this. He would have rather she'd harboured a secret lover from him, than a child of sixteen. Her entire life was cast into doubt. How much of her past was truly honest? The woman who stood before him, his _wife,_ was a stranger to him.

"His friends saw us yesterday." Zuko's voice was flat and dull, rattling off the bare facts. He felt completely drained. "I was cornered and they wanted to know. They thought..." He trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished. It was obvious what they thought.

"Enlai-" She touched him on the shoulder, but he shrugged her away, shaking his head. Ursa withdrew her hand, pressing her lips together. She wished he would shout at her. The wheels in her mind turned frantically, thinking desperately of something she could possibly say to him. Was there anything she could say, except for the truth? And he wouldn't want to hear that. She couldn't hurt him like that. "Please, let me explain-"

"Go on then!" He whirled around, straightening himself. His eyes shone at her, very bright. "Tell me!" His voice broke, but he kept his chin up straight, looking at her in the eye. Ursa drew in a short, sharp breath, willing herself to think of something good. There had to be something plausible. There had to be a rational explanation for a secret sixteen-year-old child. Perhaps she could say Zuko was born out of wedlock. That she gave him up to an orphanage and left town. Plenty of young, abandoned mothers were known to do that. Ursa opened her mouth to speak, her mind rapidly weaving together a few slender threads of a lie, but as her lips started to move, the voice died in her throat, and her mouth closed. She knew that she couldn't spin another lie. It would destroy them all. There was only one thing she could do that had a slim chance of salvaging her marriage with this man.

"I was married." Zuko made a noise in his throat, and he started shaking his head. Surely, she wasn't thinking of _telling_ him? Ursa ignored her eldest son, looking only at Enlai. "For ten years."

"I-Is he still alive?" Enlai demanded, his inflamed eyes slowly drying. Ursa paused, but nodded slowly. "Do you know where he his?" Another nod.

"Mum, don't." Zuko stepped in, grabbing her wrist. "Please, you can't-"

"Hush Lee." She pushed on his shoulder gently, guiding him away. He released his hold on her and took a step back, watching silently as his mother tried to hold Enlai's hand. He let her, but Zuko could see his knuckles were white. "Sit down." Her grasp was firm, and Enlai yielded to her silently, sitting down heavily in the room's only chair. Ursa got down on her knees in front of him, submissively. She tried very hard to make herself appear small. Zuko leaned heavily against the doorframe, his knees weak. What was she doing? Didn't she realise the danger they would be in, the both of them, if more people were to know? He didn't see the glaring hypocrisy. "I'm not... from here." Ursa paused, her mouth a small wrinkled knot. He would either accept her with the full truth, or cast her out, turn her in, say that he never wanted to see her again. She had to take the chance. "Not just Ba Sing Se, but... the Earth Kingdom." She couldn't look at Zuko; she looked her husband dead in the eye. "We're from the Fire Nation." Zuko's head was in his hands.

"I should have known." She was _so_ different to any other woman he had met. There was something foreign and exotic about her, from the moment he'd laid eyes on her across the room of a crowded tea shop four years ago. It wasn't just in her looks, but the way she held herself, the soft inflection in her vowels, her taste in food, her mannerisms and social idiosyncrasies. He knew she wasn't from Ba Sing Se, but it wasn't just regional. Her difference seemed to put her in another world. Ursa rested on her heels, waiting for the man to continue speaking, but Enlai had lapsed into another long silence. She took a long breath, steeling herself.

"I left seven years ago because I did something terrible. I lied because I thought you wouldn't want anything to do with me." How did she manage to stay so calm? Ursa felt as though she was breaking apart inside.

"What did you do?" Enlai was bursting with questions. He knew there was more, so much more to the story than what he had been told. He felt hollow and dried out, desperately determined to unravel every last thread of his wife's complicated past.

"I murdered my father-in-law." She sounded flat and emotionless. She never had any remorse for what she had done to Azulon. If anything, she felt as though death had cheated him out of any further suffering. To her, his long history of sadism had been left unpunished in his death. "He was... an important person in the Fire Nation."

"How important?" Enlai pressed. Zuko straightened up, clearing his throat. Ursa's eyes flicked to him for a second. He was frantically shaking his head, making a slashing motiona cross his throat. Silently, he begged her not to reveal their darkest secret.

"Enlai..." She found his hands again, and squeezed them gently. Their baby still murmured restlessly in his cot. She longed to embrace the child, but couldn't break her hold. She had to tell him this. He had the right to know the past of the woman he'd pledged his life to. _I should have told him when he proposed to me._ "My husband was Firelord Ozai." He pulled his hands away with a start, as though she had burned him. His eyes were impossibly wide. Ursa was aware of a violent rushing in her ears. She bowed her head, trying to clear the sound. Zuko swore silently, but the pair heard the sharp intake of breath. Ursa raised her head after several moments of painful silence. She rested her hands on his knees, and he shifted uncomfortably under the touch. But she didn't let go of him. She refused to.

"Did you love him?" How possessive, how selfish of him, to have that the first question from his lips! But it seemed so ludicrous to him. He struggled to make the connection in his mind, between his wife, his sweet, beautiful Ta Min, and the monster who threatened to destroy the world. The woman at his feet seemed entirely alien to him, as she lay before her a past that he never could have guessed. It stretched between them, a yawning chasm, that threatened to split them apart forever, and swallow him up entirely. He felt her slim white hands stiffen on his knee. She was frozen. It wasn't a question she ever would have expected. She thought he would ask first about her name, her age, how many children she really had. All previously established as solid truths, thrown into disarray and doubt. But he bypassed them all, going straight to her heart.

"Zuko, leave the room." Her voice was trembling. Enlai flinched at the use of the name, pained. Zuko stepped towards her, his brow creased in a very, very deep frown. "Please."

"Mum, I-"

"I'm asking you to leave." There was a hard edge to her voice, barbed and almost poisonous. Zuko sprang back at her iron voice, hands falling lax at his sides. "Go into the sitting room and wait."

"But-"

"I didn't _ask_ you, I'm telling you." Zuko had never been scolded by his mother before, and it came to him as a shock. "Leave us." Zuko opened his mouth to respond, but he thought the better of it, and left silently, begrudgingly, slamming the door behind him with a force that shook the walls. Ursa's shoulders slumped in a long sigh as she heard the bang, shaking her head. Of course he was angry. He didn't want to be left out of something like this. But the moment the topic had been brought up, Ursa knew it would be hard to stop. And there were things he couldn't know. Not ever.

He _wasn't _happy. Zuko swore, loudly and repeatedly as the thumped heavily down the stairs. He was so absorbed in his own mental turmoil, that he didn't see the slim girl struggling with a heavy chair until he almost walked into her.

"Oh!" Her cheeks flushed heavily at the sight of him. Wen walked backwards down the stairs, supporting the chair with her thin little arms. She peered at him over the piece of furniture. All Zuko could see was a pair of wide brown eyes. She hovered uncertainly on the staircase, unsure of how to greet him. On principle, she was to greet any associate of her master with a bow, but her arms trembled under the immense weight of the chair.

"Here." Zuko wordlessly pushed her aside - a little roughly, it was to be said – and easily hoisted the carved chair in his arms. The servant girl followed the unknown stranger in a curious silence, biting her lip. He was dressed like a commoner, like _her,_ but despite his violent swearing, he was far too high-brow to be a peasant. People like her, who spent their time among the upper classes, learned quickly the mannerisms of the highly-bred. "Where did you want it?"

"J-Just in the hallway." Wen stood on the third stair, chewing nervously on a nail. She watched him set the chair near the door, the furniture adding to the carefully-packed pile of goods to be transferred to the new house. The chair was too big, too impractical, to find a home in the new small apartment, but Enlai couldn't bear to part with it. "Thank you."

"Whatever." Zuko paced the hallway distractedly, constantly casting his eyes to the head of the stairs. He was furious. He'd always suspected that there was _something_, something dark and secret that shrouded the family past. There was always something in the way his mother reacted whenever he asked about _her_ parents. She always looked away and pretended she didn't hear, or she said it was time for bed, or she said not to be nosy. Zuko struggled to put the pieces together, but he could only entertain wild theories in his mind. He never had anything to confirm his suspicions. Even his Uncle refused to utter a word on the subject. It was _serious._ And he still, he was kept in the dark. Zuko stopped on his heel, staring up at the closed door. He wasn't a child anymore. He could _take_ it. Why wouldn't his mother see that?

The little housemaid pressed herself to the wall as Zuko ran up the stairs, trying to keep his tread light. He paused outside at the door, hesitating for a moment. But he pressed his ear to the door, screwing his eyes shut in concentration as he struggled to hear what the couple were saying in the nursery. All he could hear were soft, muffled voices. He thought he could hear somebody crying, but he wasn't sure who it was. Zuko crouched a little, as though he could hear closer to the ground. But there was nothing but silence. Whatever story his mother had told, it was already over. Or she had paused for breath. Zuko growled in frustration, and wrenched the door open, storming into the sunny room.

"You can't do this!" The words left Zuko's mouth before he realised that Ursa was sitting on the chair, in Enlai's arms. She started, looked up at the intruder. One look at her eyes, and it was obvious who had been in tears. Zuko stopped for a second, uncomfortable and embarrassed, but he ploughed on ahead anyway. "How come _he_ can know and I can't!"

"You don't want to know." Enlai's face was white. Ursa was clinging to him, her hands still shaking violently. He'd never seen her like this, and it shook Zuko, touching something deep in his soul. "You're better not knowing."

"No, I'm not!" Zuko shouted over his meek words. The infant in the crib started to cry, wailing piteously in fright. "Is this about Dad? Look, if you think I can't hate him any more, I-"

"It's _not_ about your father." Ursa finally spoke up, disentangling herself from Enlai as she rose rather clumsily to her feet. The young man hurried quickly over to the crying infant, holding the soft bundle in his arms. "Please, just let this go, y-"

"I can't just let this go!" Zuko didn't mean to shout like this, he didn't, but his anger got the better of him, rising in his chest. "It's not _fair!_ I'm your son and you won't tell me anything! I've asked you for years and you haven't said a word!" Zuko took another step towards his mother, keeping his chin high. He was challenging her. "Whatever it is, I can take it Mum."

"Honey." She spoke simply, reaching her hand out to Zuko's shoulder. "I'm sorry, but not now, I just can't- hey!" A frown creased her ivory skin as Zuko turned away from her, marching out of the room. "Where do you think you're going?"

He didn't answer her. Zuko stamped loudly down the stairs, his mouth set in a deep scowl. He was livid and frustrated, but most of all, he was hurt. Did his mother think so little of him, that she couldn't trust him to take something like this? Did she think he was too immature, too young? When would she learn that he wasn't a stupid little child anymore?

"Please, don't just walk out!" Ursa chased him down the stairs. It seemed as though they were cursed. They had only met three times now, but every time, it was painfully awkward, or it ended in a violent explosion of anger, with Zuko storming out. "Look, I-"

He slammed the door in her face. Ursa stopped short, the door narrowly missing her nose. The gust of wind blew several strands of hair in her face, and she spat them out, her cheeks crimson. She wasn't guilty about _anything_. Not this time. This time, it was entirely Zuko's fault. He was being childish and unreasonable. Her hand rested on the doorknob, tempted to go screaming down the street for him to _get back here_. For the first time in many years, she wanted to hit him. Ursa leaned forward, groaning as her forehead came into contact with the wood panelling. How could she make him understand? When it came to her past, it wasn't Ozai that had ruined her life. It wasn't Ozai that had taken everything she had ever loved. It was the one Zuko had looked up to his entire life. It was his sworn protector and closest confidant, the only man Zuko had ever trusted entirely.

It was _Iroh_ that had almost destroyed her.

* * *

Mai was not going to ever get used to wearing her hair down. She hated the way it hung over his neck, hot and heavy, like a thick blanket draped over her shoulders. She despised the way it blocked her peripheral vision. Even though she did her best to sweep it back, the black curtain of hair refused to stay out of her face. But she had to bear through it. She had to keep her head up and act as though she wore her hair in a half-topknot every day of her life. Mai was tough but it was the little things that annoyed her and got under her skin. She'd always kept her waist-length hair pinned up, even when she slept. She felt like an entirely different person. Of course, the green dress didn't help. She even confused the cook. But recognition dawned, and he let her take a tray of food to the youngest prisoner onboard the ship.

It wasn't much. A small bowl of rice, some steamed vegetables, and a cup of lukewarm tea. Prisoners weren't allowed anything more, she was curtly told. Mai didn't care much as she slid the heavy lock open. No doubt he would happily eat maggot-laden chicken bones at this point. The Dai Li mentioned that he hadn't been fed yet. It was what gave Mai the idea.

"Hello?" The lantern on the tray cast a soft orange glow around the tiny room. Mai closed the door, sliding the key carefully into a concealed fold of clothing. She measured the cabin in a single gaze. It was very meagre. Eight feet across, at best, with nothing but a worn bedstead taking up one half. The figure slumped on the mattress looked more dead than alive. But Mai could see the whites of his eyes, staring at her.

"H-Hello?" His voice was the barest whisper. Mai set the tray on the floor. He became black shadow, half of his face bathed in light, the other in darkness. She sat herself on the edge of the bed, trying to keep a meek demeanour. But she wasn't a complete iceberg; something throbbed, deep within her, as she looked at his face. He was exhausted, cold, starving, and completely terrified. They were almost the same age. She tried to imagine herself in that situation, an extreme security threat, captured and bound. She couldn't. "Who... are you?" It was like skin on sandpaper. The back of Mai's neck prickled at his broken rasp of a voice, and she bent down, taking the warm tea.

"I'm Mian." Mai decided to choose a name similar to her own. It was easier to remember. "Can you sit up a little more, please?" She watched him clench his hands into fists as he struggled to lift his head. He was too weak to move. Mai bit her lip, and with one arm, she got under his shoulders, hoisting up against the wall. He slumped against her without a word, Mai brushing his fingers. They were like ice, stiff and frozen. That wasn't good. They'd rot off if they weren't careful. Not that Azula would care. Prisoners generally didn't need their fingers. She pressed the cup against his lips. "Drink, it'll make you feel better." He coughed at first, the lukewarm liquid dribbling down his chin. Mai gently touched his throat, coaxing him to swallow. He stared at her, his eyes into her own, refusing to break his gaze for a moment. She watched him drink without another word, not wanting to look him quite in the eye. There was something blank, something chilling, behind them. There wasn't any light in there.

"Where am I?" His voice already sounded better. He gasped a little for air as she broke away, wiping at his chin with the sleeve of her dress. Mai set down the empty cup before she answered, trying to keep an edge of fear in her voice, as though she herself was in a precarious situation.

"A Fire Nation ship." She smoothed out the blanket at his waist. His skin was freezing. "Heading to the capital for..." Mai trailed off, reaching down for the bowl of rice.

"For what?" His voice cracked. "What's going on?" The warmth of the tea, the excitement of another living soul, breathing near him, light, a pair of eyes to look into, sent life into his dying soul. The terror and bewilderment that had welled up in him started to spill over in his broken train of thought. "What's happening?"

"You were arrested by the Fire Nation princess." Mai held a spoon of rice near his lips. He obediently opened his mouth, and swallowed. "For terrorism and attempted murder. You tried to destroy one of the colony towns and killed a number of Fire Nation soldiers." Now she looked into his eyes. Mai watched for his reaction carefully. If he was truly amnesiac, he would respond with genuine confusion. If he was lying, he would deny it. But the words that came out of his mouth knocked Mai for six.

"Who are the Fire Nation?" He asked as soon as his mouth was empty. The hand that held the spoon fell lax, Mai's eyes widening.

"They're the ones who own this ship and arrested you." She tried to mask her surprise, offering him another spoon of rice. He ate greedily, not bothering to chew before swallowing.

"Are you Fire Nation?" He asked quietly. He didn't know if he could trust her, but damn, this was the only human contact he could _ever_ remember. He'd lay bare his soul to her, do _anything_, to keep her and her lantern in the room. He was terrified of being trapped again, alone in the crushing darkness.

"No. I'm from the Earth Kingdom." He was either taking this to an extreme, or he had genuinely lost every trace of his memory. Mai was an expert of picking up on the most subtle of facial ticks. It was a skill she had learned after years and years of maintaining a perfect, emotionless facade. She became an expert at finding the cracks. And he wasn't giving anything away.

"And me?" He opened his mouth for another spoonful, inhaling the rice. "What am I?"

"You're from the Earth Kingdom too." She was getting in over her head. Mai wasn't expecting this. She was prepared to play the innocent little servant girl, but this was starting to get out of hand.

"What's my name?" It was so weak, so piteous and wretched, it tugged even at Mai's heartstrings. She looked down at her hands for several moments, turning the question over in her mind before raising her gaze. She looked into his eyes, trying to find a tell. But there was nothing there. He was bare. Empty. She couldn't read him and his awful blank eyes.

"Jet. Your name is Jet."

* * *

"Dad! I've been looking everywhere for you."

Hakoda sat on the edge of the dock with his feet in the water, watching the almost glassy surface ripple and waver at his touch. He wriggled his toes, watching the tiny rings expand in the water, growing outwards until they faded away. He had tried to find somewhere quiet and relaxed, where he could meditate in peace. He didn't want to be around people.

Hakoda felt revolting.

It was as horrible, as dirty, as he expected. No, it was _worse_. She wouldn't let him kiss her. She said that cost extra, more than he could pay. She made him lie down and keep still, promising that she would 'take care' of him. It wasn't how he remembered it used to be, with Kya. The woman was too fast and she had nails that scratched. He would have preferred her to lie prostrate on the bed, as lifeless as stone, and at least let him _try_, rather than furiously trying to get the job done as quickly as possible, before moving on to the next 'customer'.

He hated himself. He felt cold and disgusted. The whole thing was over before he could blink, and she left the room without even saying goodbye. It wasn't even that _good._ He'd had better by himself. Hakoda was ashamed to think that he could ever begin to replace Kya with some cheap woman. He would rather have the memory of a ghost than the cold, mechanical touch of a prostitute.

"Dad?" Hakoda jumped at the sound of his sons' voice, looking up to see Sokka taking a seat beside him on the isolated corner of the pier. "Where have you been?"

"Oh." He swallowed, his mouth dry. Hakoda kept his eyes on the water, slowly swinging his legs back and forth. "Just around. I've been here for a while. Have you seen your sister?"

"Yeah, she's fine." Sokka nodded. "I booked the rooms around her for us. Figured that'll be nicer than spending the night on the ship." He bit his lip, looking down at his father's feet. He felt undeniably awkward. "Dad... Are you sure you just came here?"

"What do you mean?" Hakoda finally looked up, turning to regard his son. Sokka still looked down at the water, scratching the back of his head. "I walked around a bit, if that's what you mean."

"I mean... did you, go in anywhere?" Sokka's cheeks started to flush red. "Maybe a, um, a certain house of... Well." He coughed, unable to form the words with his mouth. Hakoda's feet froze in the water, eyes slowly growing wide. "I saw you going in."

"Oh." He was quiet. Hakoda's eyes slid up to the sky for a moment, casting his thoughts around. "Yes... I did." He slowly admitted. Sokka was taking it better than he would have expected. He would have thought the boy would shout at him and accuse him of tarnishing the memory of his wife. "You're... taking it well."

"Yeah, well." Sokka have a wry half-laugh. He remembered kissing Suki in the silvery light of the full moon. "I haven't been exactly faithful to someone's memory." He looked his father in the eye. "Do you do it much?"

"What? Oh, you mean..." Hakoda coughed. "No. This was... Actually the first time. Ever." He clasped his hands together, aware the back of his neck was starting to feel very hot. "Since your mother, I mean."

"Can't say I'm surprised." There was another wry chuckle from the teenager. "I had a bet with Katara that when you came home you'd have a new mother for us. It made her furious."

"Hm? No, I wouldn't do that to you kids." His hand fell rather heavily on Sokka's shoulder. "I'm not that interested in finding someone else. Not at my age." He tried to sound convincing. "You two keep me fit enough."

"Oh, come on Dad." Sokka rolled his eyes. "You're not even forty yet. You've got what, fifty years left to live."

"That's ambitious." Hakoda muttered under his breath. Sokka pretended not to hear him. "Look, finding someone else isn't top priority at the moment. We've got a war to fight."

"And then after?"

"I don't know." Hakoda frowned. Why was his son taking an interest in his non-existent love life? "That's a long way away."

"Only a few months." Sokka pointed out. A few months, if they won, of course. But then they would be as good as dead otherwise and it would all be over anyway. "Look, I just mean... Surely there's got to be people out there than well, _that."_ He waved his hand in the direction of the dockside village. "One of our own, for a start."

"Hah. All the women in our village are either married or ten years younger than me. It's not exactly thriving, is it?" Sokka shook his head, chuckling.

"I dunno Dad, a younger lady might be good for y-hey!" Sokka yelped as he was splashed with the warm seawater, spitting out the salty liquid. "Dad!" He tried to splash his father in return, soaking his boots.

"All right. Truce." His feet stilled in the water, and he leaned back on his hands, closing his eyes in the afternoon sun. It was deliciously warm on his face, the salty tang of the ocean air sending shivers down his spine. He could never bear to be more than a day from the ocean.

"I should go check on Katara." With a long sigh of regret, Sokka hoisted his feet out of the water, trying to shake his sodden boots. "Don't be too long."

"I won't." Hakoda's eyes were still closed.

"Oh, and Dad?" His eyes cracked open, and he arched his neck to look up at his son. "Can you promise something for me?"

"What is it?"

"When we win the War," There was no _if._ Sokka refused to address it. "You'll go on a date with someone." Hakoda's eyes snapped fully open. "Just try it."

"... All right." Hakoda slowly sat up straight, nodding. "When we win, I'll take someone out." His smile faded into a thoughtful frown. When did Sokka... Grow up? It was so strange. He addressed his father like an equal, frankly sharing his mind with him. Sokka didn't seem to _need_ him anymore. He wasn't the little boy that followed his daddy around and asked to go fishing and secretly played with his father's tools when he thought it was safe. Somewhere along the line, he became a man.

And Hakoda had missed it.

Regret blossomed in his chest. Hakoda wrenched himself from the edge of the dock, abandoning his heavy armour and boots as he made his way along the lopsided boardwalk. But he'd only made half a dozen steps when he realised that he couldn't pick Sokka out from the rest of the soldiers in the scattered crowd. Hakoda's shoulders slumped as he looked down at his feet, his eyes and nose burning with the definite and overwhelming urge to cry.

Katara had turned into her mother. It was plain to see. Her fighting spirit, her loyalty and selflessness, and her domestic commitment to the men around her, it was all a mirror of Kya. She was even starting to look like her. But Sokka wasn't turning into his father. He was turning into someone apart. Someone better. Someone who had contemplated the age-old creed of his people, and rejected it for simple humanity.

It seemed to him they'd done a better job of raising themselves than he ever could have done. Hakoda returned to his spot on the pier, gingerly kicking at the heavy bits of armour with his feet. He didn't know what to do with himself. He still felt on tenterhooks with his men, after what he had done to Paka, Kamik, and Ulo. His daughter would be too busy fussing over Aang to indulge him. And he didn't know what he could say to Sokka. He felt as though he'd already said too much to his son over the past day.

He returned to the water.

* * *

"I wondered when you'd be home."

Zuko closed the door behind himself without a reply, leaning heavily on the battered weatherboards. The pile of half-peeled vegetables was left abandoned on the low table, Jin almost running across the little room when she saw the look on his face.

"What's wrong?" Zuko stared down at the floor, feeling sick. He'd done it _again._ He'd shouted at her, stormed off in anger, sworn. And he'd seen the look in her eyes. She wasn't hurt this time – she was _angry. _She'd never been angry at him before. He didn't want to sit there thinking about it. He didn't want to picture her tearful face. "Zuko?"

"Do you have anything to drink?" Zuko still kept his gaze down at his feet. Jin crossed her arms, forehead creasing in a frown. "Do you?"

"I do, but it's just the day." Jin reached forward, taking his hand. "What's wrong? Where have you been?" Zuko didn't respond. Instead, he began to walk away, clenching his fingers around Jin's hand. "Zuko? Wh-what are you doing?" Jin's voice lowered to a hiss as they entered her dark little room.

"Where is it?" He wrenched open her bedside table, rifling through her meagre possessions. Finding nothing, he turned to her bed, lifting up the mattress. "Where have you hidden it?"

"What do you think you're doing?" Jin grabbed a hold of Zuko's arms, the boy struggling free of her and digging his hand in the pillowcase. "Zuko, _stop it!"_

"Well, where is it then?" He threw the pillow on the bed, turning to her. "Please Jin, I _really_ need a drink." Jin stared at him, open-mouthed. He hated the stuff. Something horrible had happened to him.

"What happened to you?" She pushed down hard on his shoulders, forcing him to sit on the bed. Zuko ran his fingers through his hair, eyes half-focused on her. He screwed up his eyes, shaking his head. "Zuko, _tell me."_

"I ran into Mum's new husband. My... My stepfather." He tried the word out. No. It sounded completely foreign and separate to him. He couldn't ever get used to the word. Jin sat down next to him, tightly holding his hand. "His friends saw Mum and I having tea and thought she was having an affair."

"You're joking." Zuko shook his head, looking dazed. "So... How much does he know now?"

"Everything." Zuko held on to her hand tightly. "More than _me." _He looked in pain. "Where Mum came from, her marriage... I don't know _any _of that and he knows it all. He asked her if she loved Dad, and she told me to leave. What does that mean?" Zuko stood up suddenly, turning to face Jin. He became inflamed as he recounted the scene in his mind. This was exactly what he _didn't_ want to do, for a reason. "That she did or didn't?"

"I don't know." Jin bit her lip. "Maybe she's ashamed of being in a relationship with him. Maybe she did once or maybe she hated him her whole life. I don't know Zuko."

"And I don't know either." Jin watched him silently. "And she wouldn't tell me anything! I tried and tried but she refused to say a word!" He swore in remembrance. "Why won't she tell me?"

"What did you do?" Jin started to grow worried. Images of violence flashed in her mind. "Please tell me you didn't hurt her."

"Of course I didn't hurt her." Zuko stood directly in front of her. "I'd never do that. I just... I got angry and shouted at her and left."

"Again?"

"She asked for it!" Zuko cried, face flushed. "Who does she think she is?" Jin watched him pace silently before her, his hands twisted in his hair. "She can't decide who gets to know and who doesn't! How come _he_ knows and not me? She's my _mother_ and she won't tell me a thing!"

"He's her husband." Jin sat cross-legged on her bed, resting her elbows on her knees. She was tired, irritated from work, and she didn't have the emotional patience for this sort of behaviour from Zuko. But she pushed her aggravation down, allowed him to foist his frustration on her. He accused his mother of calling him immature. He didn't see the irony. "She would have been scared, Zuko, she would have told him everything."

"And _I_ told _her_ everything!" Zuko sat down heavily on the bed, head in his hands. "Every dishonourable, dark, humiliating, painful moment, I told her _all_ of it." Jin rested her hand on his shoulder. "I don't _understand._ After everything we said at the Green Leaf, she goes and denies me from learning the truth."

"Maybe she's trying to protect you."

"I don't _need_ protecting!" Zuko stood up again, Jin starting back. "I'm not a kid anymore Jin. Whatever it is, I can handle it."

"She obviously doesn't think so." Jin said quietly. He could be so naive at times. It wasn't as though his mother would hide something without reason. She was scared the truth would hurt him.

"She doesn't know me!" Zuko shot back. "She hasn't seen me in _years._ She thinks I'm still this scared little kid who doesn't know what to do without someone holding my hand. But I'm _fine._"

"That's not true." Jin straightened up on her bed, swinging her legs over the side. "Ma told me you're up at odd hours because you don't sleep. I know you fell to bits when you lost your Uncle, and you're not all back together. You're always angry, or distracted." Zuko wouldn't look at her. "And you're not talking to me about anything."

"There's nothing to talk about." Zuko approached her slowly. "Nothing's changed Jin. It's the _same_ stuff, the same problems, going over and over in my head. All I can think about every day is Mum and Uncle and my bending and the city and there's no room for anything else..." He trailed off, shoulders slumped after his unsuccessful effort to explain himself. But Jin stood up, her forehead creasing in a frown.

"Your bending?" Zuko stilled. "What's wrong with your bending?"

"Nothing." He turned away from her roughly, crossing his arms. _Dammit._ How could he be stupid enough to let that slip? "It's just not as good as it used to be, that's all."

"Zuko, don't lie to me again." He couldn't ignore the iron will in her voice. Zuko turned slowly, and with a long, long sigh, he took one of her hands, sandwiching her fingers between his palms. Jin's eyes slowly widened at the cold pressed against her skin. Zuko had been tentative to touch her for days now. She thought she'd done something to repulse him. But now, she understood. Something like relief swelled in her chest, followed immediately by brash indignation. "When did this happen?"

"A few days ago." His hands fell down, and he looked down at the floorboards. Jin took his hands, entwining her fingers with his.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She tugged at his hands, encouraging him to look at her. Zuko's eyes slid slowly up her dress, settling at length on her face. "I told you no more secrets."

"Because it's humiliating." He pulled his hands away, jaw set. "How would you feel if you woke up and couldn't bend? How could you face people in the street, wondering what they would say if they knew? How powerless would you feel? How could you face them?" Jin watched him silently. "I'm supposed to be a _prince_ Jin!" He blurted it out, his voice breaking as he uttered her name. He looked up at the ceiling, biting down hard on his lower lip. His eyes glistened. Jin pushed down the stabbing in her chest as she realised that he still yearned for a future that was apart from her. Of course he would. The strength of a nation was laid at his feet and then whisked away from him a blink of an eye. He would never be able to forget that he was the heir to the world.

"You're better off as a peasant who knows what's right." Jin spoke quietly, grabbing handfuls of her skirt. Zuko didn't look at her. "And losing your bending isn't the end of everything. It's like people going dumb with shock. They go for years without talking then all of a sudden they open their mouths again. There has to be a reason for it."

"I know the reason." Zuko sat on the edge of the bed, hands clasped together between his knees. He tried to forget about his outburst, but it hung in the air around them, like a bad smell. Zuko knew Jin would never forget what he had said. "Firebending is fuelled by rage and hatred. When I stopped pursuing Aang and started living here, my anger started fading. Now it feels like I have nothing to fight for." He shrugged. Jin sat down beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. "And... I don't _want_ to go back to being that angry person. That's not the real me."

"Then why did you shout at your mother today?" Jin's words fell like stones into an deep, dark pool. Zuko turned to look at her, pulling his shoulder away. She righted herself, staring into his eyes. She wasn't going to back down from her challenge. "You say you're not that angry person anymore, but you yelled at her and you're yelling at me." Zuko looked away, glaring down at his hands. "You know I'm right."

"I know you are." His hands were shaking. He crossed his arms, in an attempt to mask it. "I don't know what you want me to say Jin. I make_ myself_ angry. Everything that's gone wrong in my life, I've done to myself. _I'm_ driving Mum away, Uncle's in jail because of _me_, _I_ destroyed my own job, _I_ failed to save the city..." He was close to crying. "I'm _cursed."_

"Oh, you're not cursed." She sat behind him, and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her nose in his neck. She took in a deep breath, enveloped in the smell of his skin and hair.

"I _am._" Zuko's rage was starting to fade into bitter melancholy. "I'm sure the Spirits are working against me. They want me to fail."

"You're being stupid." Her voice was muffled, but Zuko heard every word. "Look, just because you've screwed up in the past, that doesn't mean you have to keep making the same mistakes. This is your chance to start over and make a new name for yourself."

"I've run out of chances." Zuko muttered. "I've blown it with everyone." His hands rested on Jin's arms around his waist. "You don't understand Jin. I'm the _only_ one who can stop Dad and Azula. I know I am. I know what I have to do but I just don't know how to do it." Jin lolled her head to one side, listening to him silently. "I've spent my whole life being told that it's somehow my destiny, and now I don't even know what the damn word means anymore. I destroy everything I touch."

"That's not true." Jin finally spoke up. "You haven't destroyed me." Zuko felt as though he'd been punched in the stomach. He looked down at her right hand. She still wore a bandage where the dart had pierced through her hand, mainly to keep the chemicals out of it at work. Every night she unwrapped the cloth and put more creams and salts on it, to keep it clean of infection and speed up the healing process. But it still hurt her sometimes, he could tell. She struggled to lift heavy objects one-handed and it would obviously leave a nasty, obvious looking scar. He'd done that to her. He'd nearly killed her. He couldn't ever forgive himself for that. And at the same time, he knew he could never leave her. He would be utterly, completely lost without her. He selfishly stayed with her, knowing that she would never be safe with him, because without her judgeless, simple love, he'd be nothing. Zuko had a horrible feeling, deep in the pit of his stomach, that he would kill her somehow. He turned his face away so she wouldn't see the tears welling in his good eye, threatening to burst through.

"I feel like it's only a matter of time."

* * *

**I know it feels like there's a lot going on. And there is, more than this story can tell.**

**Which is why you should all check out the companion fic I put up a few days ago. If you haven't already seen it. Because the issue of Ursa/Ozai/Iroh will become so much more prominent later on, and because I just don't have the scope here, and because it works so _well_ as a standalone narrative, I'm going to post it as a fic in its own right. You don't _have_ to read it, but it would be cool if you did :D**

Look at that flawless segway. So cool. Anyways, that's enough mindless self-promotion from me, and I promise I won't ramble on about it again.  



	30. Chapter 30

**Yay another update! I'm starting to get good at this regularity thing. It's probably two years too late, though. Oops.**

**The events from this chapter and the next are going to definitively shape the course of events over the next 'arc'. I guess you could say that this extended narrative is composed of three sort of smaller stories contained in one. And we're getting into the juicy bits of the second.**

And the 'first' one was only meant to be small. Like, 60,000 words.

WHOOPSIE.

* * *

Jin had a very definite way of getting what she wanted.

She'd spent too long in a city that trampled the meek and silent. She developed a persistent, dogged determination. Jin had fought for everything she had, struggling to keep her head above the water in a claustrophobic ocean where thousands and thousands of desperate souls clambered for the surface. She refused take no for an answer, whenever she saw the slightest chance of turning the tide in her direction. She was as gracious and kind-hearted as any one person could possibly be, but when it came to fighting for what she thought was hers, Jin was gritty and indomitable, and nobody could ever conquer her.

This had changed entirely when she met a boy with a resolve as enduring as hers. Zuko was as indignant, as stubborn and resolute in spirit, as her. It sometimes seemed to her that their prevailing relationship could be traced in a series of battles. A combat of wills, where they struggled against one another. But as the city fell, and one by one, the things that he cared for most slipped away from him, Zuko's unconquerable spirit, his bitter refusal to ever give up, began to crumble. And Jin won.

She only did one thing with her newfound victory.

Two weeks after Ba Sing Se had been invaded, a little over a month since she first approached him in that dingy little tea-shop, with her cheeks reddening and eyes downcast, Jin took the dishonoured Prince in her bed.

Zuko didn't realise anything was out of the ordinary. He didn't suspect any sort of premeditated action on Jin's part. It was the day everybody had off work, and Shan had planned to take the entire family to see her elder sister Rong, a stern, heavy-handed woman who made nasty insinuations about Jin's morals whenever she laid eyes on the girl. Usually Jin would have sucked it up and gone along, but she wasn't going to waste her day off being called a slut in smartly-worded overtones that her parents pretended not to hear. So she woke up with a peaky face, weakly protesting that she couldn't leave her bed and they should just go without her.

"Do you need anything?" Zuko sat on the little three-legged stool beside her bed, fingers wound around her left hand. He seemed genuinely concerned, as though she was battling the plague on her deathbed. Jin could hear her family fluffing around in the front room, getting ready to leave. She shook her head silently, lying back on the pillow and closing her eyes. _Why can't they just leave already_? "You sure? I can make some tea."

"I'm fine, Zuko." She murmured, listening for the unmistakeable squeak of the front door being pulled shut. Finally, _finally_, the familiar grating noise met her ears. Jin waited a few more moments, until she was absolutely sure, before pulling back the covers, sitting up in her bed. "Took them long enough." She reached over, found the front of Zuko's clothes, and pulled at him firmly. "Come here."

"What?" He complied, crawling on the bed on his hands and knees, but his face was set in a deep frown. "What took long enough? Are you feeling all right?"

"Oh Zuko, I'm _fine."_ Zuko's cry was muffled as she pressed her lips against him, her experienced fingers working on the clasp of his outer robe. He sat awkwardly, stiffly, for almost a full minute as she kissed him deeply, peeling aside layers of clothing. His head swam, and it was only when her fingers brushed the bare skin of his chest, that he pulled away, gasping for air, wide-eyed. "We finally have the house all to ourselves." She breathed into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, sending a shiver down his spine, gently pushing on his arms, coaxing him to relax, to lie down on the bed, and surrender to her entirely.

"J-Jin." Zuko finally managed to stammer, his hands on the back of her neck as he pulled the girl away. He was lying on his back somehow, wearing only his underwear with Jin resting on the juncture of his hips, her long legs curled behind him. She could see his heart beating madly in his chest. He couldn't breathe. This was different to their normal kissing sessions on her bed. He'd never worn so little in front of her. Jin lifted her head slowly, taking his hands and placing them on her thighs. He pulled away, trying to sit up. "Jin..."

"Shh." She pressed a finger on his lips. She wanted this to be perfect for Zuko – and herself. Jin couldn't ignore the pressure starting to build in her lower abdomen, the racing pace of her heart. She had wanted this, she had wanted to know him completely, for a _long_ time. Did Zuko know that he could have had her on their first night? She would have given in to those bright golden eyes without a second thought. She grasped the hem of the underdress she slept in and lifted it over her head in one long, fluid motion. She wore nothing underneath. She'd prepared for this. He had no idea what was coming. Zuko voice died in his throat, hands falling lax on the bed as he stared at her, _every bit of her_, for the first time. She watched his eyes flicker from her face to her legs to her chest, his mouth forming incoherent, silent words. He managed a single, sharp intake of breath before she crushed their lips together in a powerful kiss, leaning down and pulling the sheet over their heads, withdrawing from the outside world and retreating into their new secret realm, filled with sweat and skin and violent passion.

Jin had speculated that Zuko's lovemaking would be something stilted and awkward and restrained, much like his initial attempts to woo her. But she was entirely wrong. Something had crumbled within Zuko. His last wall against her fell as he touched her, felt every hollow and curve of her body pressed against his naked skin. The emotional desire burned as strong as the physical. Every time he came close, Zuko had been clumsy and soft in the stomach, hesitating to touch her. But having her writhing skin beneath him, her soft keening and whispered plea for more in his ear, drove him to something he'd never experienced before – unbridled, unadulterated lust for the body. He couldn't get _enough_ of her. He needed to be inside of her, bound as close to her as he could, to fill her entirely. Jin thought she would need to gently direct him or do the work herself, but Zuko pressed her into the mattress, gripping her thighs, moving her legs himself. He didn't need to be told what to do. She wound her legs around his waist, bringing him closer. His hands were on her face, breathing her in. She tried to cling to his shoulders, her fingertips sliding down sweat-sheened skin. So she dug in, Zuko's lips broke in a low growl on the base of her neck, the alien sound sending an electric shiver down her spine. He sank into raw chaos, beyond physical comprehension. He wouldn't be able to recall his own name – _either_ of them. Jin's heart raced in her chest, driven by fear as much as lust, locked in Zuko's vice-like, unyielding grasp. There was an unmistakable sense of danger in the air. This side of Zuko seemed brutal and feral to her.

And she _loved _it.

* * *

_One... two... three... fo-Oh shit!_

Jet hit the floor with a dull _thud,_ face contorted in pain as he clutched at his chest, agonized from another failed attempt at exercise. This time, it was lifting himself with his arms, balancing on his toes. His arms were too weak to lift him, and his back spasmed under the strain. He groaned, pulling himself into a sitting position after several moments. He lifted his battered shirt, pulling down the bandages and checking his ribs. The bruising looked like a black ink stain across his chest, tender and extremely painful to the touch. He ran his fingers over the skin as firmly as he dared, wincing as his fingertips made gentle contact. Nothing seemed more broken or out of place than usual. He replaced his clothing, and arched his neck backwards in a long, slow sigh. He felt the familiar cracking of his expanding sternum as he breathed in, and the realignment as he exhaled.

_Okay. No more of that._

"Jet?" The teenager jerked his head at the voice, mouth falling open as he noticed the girl standing on the threshold. "What are you doing on the ground?"

"Mian." A warm feeling flooded his stomach as she closed the door behind her. The pressure rose in his chest, he struggled to breathe and felt his cheeks flush a warm pink. Jet managed to get on to his knees, watching her familiar routine. He watched her supple, lean white arms and her long fingers, her smoke-grey eyes staring down at her task. He was struck by her. "Breakfast already?"

"If you could call it that." She took the lamp that he left on the ground, pulling the cask of oil from under her skirt. Every morning, she smuggled in enough fuel to keep the lamp burning for another day. He watched her move, her porcelain skin illuminated in the pale lamplight, stuttering to a warm orange glow. She held the glass lamp in her hands as the flame swelled, her fingers black around the bright orb. Her eyes shone in the light for a moment. Then she turned her head, and her face was hidden by the black curtain of hair. She set the lamp down and crouched before him, taking his thin arms and hauling the teenager to his feet. He buried his nose in her shoulder for a moment, inhaling a sweet lungful of skin and hair and green silk, before she broke the spell and let him tumble on his sagging bed. She propped him up against the wall, and sat beside him, resting the tray across their legs. Their arms were a hairs-breadth apart, her left against his right. He could feel the warmth radiating from her, her clean white skin gleaming in contrast to his dirty brown limb. He ate wordlessly. Mai watched him in her own silence, giving his face a routine sweep, scanning his features for any tells. Of course, there were none. As always, he revealed nothing.

What if it was because he had nothing to reveal?

What if Mai couldn't crack him, because there was nothing to crack? He wasn't hiding anything from her. He couldn't be. It was impossible. She had subtly worked him over in the past week, working to gain his trust – not just his trust, but his blind and complete adoration. First, she unchained his hands. Then, she gave him clean clothes. She bandaged his chest properly (for all the good it did). She sneaked in extra food when she could. She lifted her skirt one day, and showed him that she smuggled in a blanket by winding it around her waist. She gave him light. Mai had done everything she could think of to strengthen his dependence on her. Nobody else visited the dark little cabin, she made sure of it.

She thought he could be falling in love with her. Mai egotistically entertained the thought in her mind, as she lay in bed several nights before. She knew she was an attractive girl, and the gentle facade she'd adopted would bow any man to her will. It was why she did it. At first, she was scared. She'd had a _crush_ before (and still did, although she didn't like to admit it to herself), but she'd never experienced love. Not real romantic, _reciprocated_ love, that bound two souls together. But Mai reasoned with herself. She wasn't going to be silly and lose her head. She was better than that. It was why Azula picked her over Ty Lee. She _wanted_ Mai to get close to him. And Mai only had another week to get the truth out of him. Whatever truth that was.

Their hands touched.

Jet froze at the contact. Mai had reached across to have a little sip of his tea. She was feeling thirsty. Her fingers brushed across his skin, and he audibly gasped, eyes lowering. She could see in the dull lamplight that goosebumps had broken out along his skin. He cleared his throat after a long, awkward pause, pushing the teacup across the tray in her direction. He couldn't trust himself to speak. Mai took a careful sip, her smile hidden by the chipped rim of the porcelain cup.

Yes. He was painfully smitten with her and didn't dare to admit it. Mai considered her next move carefully, laying the pieces down and considering the consequences, the justification, of what she would do next.

_Just keep your head._

* * *

"My Lord, where shall you be taking your lunch?"

Ozai didn't hear his steward, at first. He was still fixated on the letter clutched firmly in his left hand. He read it once more by the light of the fire, his rage swelling tenfold as he recounted the damning words. The black ribbon of the message trailed six inches down in the air, trembling. The steward kept his mouth shut, trepidation growing. A black ribbon message meant only one thing.

The Avatar had been sighted.

The wall of fire between the two climbed even higher, threatening to engulf the throne in its entirety. The steward flinched back from the oppressive heat, but kept his face respectfully downward, the marble floor growing hot beneath his bare, wrinkled hands. Everyone knew – or _thought_ – that Azula herself had killed the Avatar on the day Ba Sing Se fell. She claimed he had died by her hands. She had either _lied_, or had been mistaken.

Down in the bottom of his soul, something within Ozai stretched almost to breaking point.

It took a tremendous emotional blow to rattle him. He accepted the killing of his father with a stark indifference. He banished his son without a shred of remorse. Ozai had only fostered a very few emotional connections in his life and almost all of them had, over the past few years, been cut. He was only brought to tears once in his adult life – when he watched the retreating form of his wife slip away for ever. The last thread had snapped within him. He had lost his brother, his son, his wife, his father, mother, and nephew. Ten years ago, he recalled a Royal palace abuzz with chatter, the flitting forms of his young children and the fussing servants. The weekly walks around the pond with his father, the dinners, the parties and the intrigue. Now only the shadowy whispers of ghosts were there to greet him. The sprawling wings of the palace had been shut off, left its secrets and memories left to gather dust in the darkness. He'd moved out of his own grand quarters a year earlier, repurposing a small anteroom at the shadowy core of the palace. The limbs had been amputated, and the heart struggled to beat. Azula had been the last one left. For three years, Ozai quelled the unsettling doubt in his mind with her face. She was his pride and joy. She was undeniably _perfect_. She had never done a thing to slight him. Her entire _life_, her whole being, was dedicated completely to him and the Fire Nation. She was simultaneously the country's most loyal servant and consummate leader. He would put his life in her hands without a second thought.

_And yet she failed._

The unshakeably stoic man couldn't comprehend it. The idea that Azula would fail in her task – _and then lie to him about it_ – was utterly unthinkable. This was beyond deceit. This was _treason._ A fresh knife twisted in Ozai's heart as he read the letter again, checking the exact wording. Perhaps the crew that saw him were mistaken. He had heard vague rumours about the Southern Raiders; drunkards and barbarians, the lot of them. Was it wise to trust such an unreliable source?

The punishment for misinformation at this degree was severe - execution for the conscripts, banishment for the officers. Ozai knew in his heart that they would never have sent the message unless they had absolute certainty. He kept his face perfectly expressionless as he slipped the letter inside his clothing, placing his hands on his folded lap.

"I shall take lunch in my private quarters, Chaoxing."

The steward nodded into the marble, leaving in absolute silence. Ozai kept his head bowed as his eldest servant left the burning throne room, turning the letter over and over in his mind, searching within himself for some sort of logical explanation. There must be one. Azula would _never_ deceive him like this. Nothing made sense to him.

The flames brushed the ceiling in a long, animal roar.

* * *

There were fewer people than Renshu expected at the huge metal monster the Fire Nation called its 'administrative offices'. It was the ugliest building the man had ever seen. It _seemed _squat and bulky, yet it towered above the bricked factories around it. It was utterly grotesque. They had started clearing more of the buildings around it, planning a large square before the hideous open doorway. It hung open like a mouth, swallowing whole the abject souls that trudged into it. They were going to start being very public. Renshu wondered vaguely if they would ring the towering monstrosity with a wall. But that wouldn't welcome the crowds Mung planned to pull for his public displays.

There was surprisingly little ceremony as he approached the building. He told one of the guards that he was there for the 'identification and processing', and he was merely pushed inside wordlessly by a spear-butt. Renshu shoved his head in his pockets and kept his head down as he joined a thin crowd in a large waiting hall, drifting closer and closer to a wide iron desk, manned by no less than six bored-looking soldiers scrawling on confiscated stacks of paper.

"Yes?" Renshu's throat closed as he approached the desk, hands starting to shake in his pockets. He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice had died in his throat entirely. The soldier rolled his eyes and sighed. He was just a boy. Two of his own sons were older than this teenaged soldier. "Hurry up." He snapped, sounding tired and irritated. The older man coughed, trying to find his voice. It was terrifying. He was in the mouth of the beast, not knowing when, _or if_, he would ever be free. He could have just inhaled his last lungful of fresh air, felt the last ray of sunlight on his face, forever. And he didn't even savour it. What if the last words he ever spoke to his wife were 'I'll be along in a moment, just have to see a man about a job'? The realisation hit him, a heavy blow in his chest. _What in the name of the Spirits am I getting myself into here?_

"I-I'm..." Renshu cleared his throat, suddenly emboldened. _Better to give myself up than be caught hiding like a common criminal._ He still had his pride, for what that was worth. "I'm here for the ninth decree, it s-"

"Ah, a rock-thrower." The soldier cut over him, a sneer on his lips. He looked Renshu in his jade-green eyes, obviously scanning the colour. His scorn looked so strange and uncharacteristic on that young face. Renshu wondered how much of it was genuine, and how much of it was stress and exhaustion, and a play-acting imitation of his elders. All six of the desk-ridden soldiers looked like him. Young, and unquestionably weary. The soldier clicked his fingers, and before Renshu could turn around, he felt two gloved hands encircling his wrists. A spear-point was pressed into his back. "Third floor." He waved them away, making a crude note on his heavily-blotted paper. Renshu's courage, which had swelled in the last minute, deflated, pierced by that horrible spear in the middle of his back.

The stairs were steep and narrow, and he had a hard time making it out in the dark. His heart thudded in his mouth as he made his way up, acutely aware that one slip, one wrong step, could leave him impaled. Mentally, he berated himself as he was frogmarched through the gloom by the two men. _Why are you doing this? How could giving yourself up be a good idea? What would Shan say if she knew? What if they kill you? Why didn't you try to give yourself more time?_

"Get in." The breath was knocked out of Renshu's lungs as he was pushed unexpectedly into a very dark little room. For an earth-shattering moment, he thought it was a prison cell, that they would close the door behind him and leave him in the darkness forever. But they still held him close, and he quickly noticed the bright orange glow in the corner. A furnace.

"Another one, huh?" A portly soldier was sitting on a rather lopsided chair beside the orange fire, smoking a thin clay pipe. They obviously kept the prime men for the heavy work, the intimidating and brute force, and the young and unfit were relegated to tedious administrative duties. "Bring 'im over then." The spear vanished from his back. Renshu's shoulders sagged in relief. "Are ya left or right-handed?" The thick soldier pulled on a heavy, leadlined glove.

"R-Right." Renshu's voice was hoarse and trembling. His chest seized with terror as he watched the man digging around in the open stove with a poker. His left arm was forced outwards, the sleeve pulled back to the elbow. His hand was pulled in a vice-like grip, exposing his wrist in the dim orange light. The other soldier had his right arm pinned to his side, leaving him completely motionless. He couldn't move even if he struggled. Renshu didn't understand what was happening for several moments. It wasn't until the soldier stepped away from the stove that he understood what 'the identification process' was all about. A disconsolate, irrepressible cry broke out from between his lips, and he tried to pull away out of sheer instinct, held frozen in place.

It wasn't a poker the soldier had been poking the burning embers with.

_It was a branding iron._

* * *

"It's for you."

The tiny square of paper was held before Zuko's eyes. He lay on his back, arms folded behind his head, basking in the slowly shifting patch of sunlight. He was sleepy. Dazed. Euphoric. Jin let the letter fall on his chest as she slipped out of her robe and between the sheets. Damn the messenger boy for interrupting them. Zuko's limbs still felt heavy and dead, and he unfolded his arms reluctantly, holding Jin close with one arm, unfolding the letter with the other.

"Who's it from?" She spoke into the crook of his neck, curled into his side. She was still too exhilarated to consider any ill news. Jin's eyes closed, heart still racing as she struggled to recover from what had to be the most intense, physical, intimate, experience of her life. It hadn't lasted long in the end – it never did, when it was his first – but those precious few minutes left her overwhelmed and drained and still incredibly _alive_. It had felt to her like drowning. Drowning and flying, all at once. It wasn't his physical dominance over her that left her in shivers, she realised after. It was the minutes he spent afterwards, touching her face and asking if she were all right. It was the simple knowledge that she touched the deepest recess of his soul, reached in and claimed it for herself. She had taken from him his last vestige of physical innocence. They were bound to each other, body and mind and spirit as their blossoming relationship had come full circle. Zuko looked back with an odd sense of horror. When he came to himself and realised it was animal in his skin that took her, he was almost in tears. He seemed terrified that he had hurt her. No amount of consolation on her part, reassurance that she wasn't made of china and she could take it – she _liked_ it – could wipe the guilty expression from his face. He swore he would stop feeling guilty, but he was gentler to her after that. He refused to allow his lust to take over entirely. Even now, he gently kissed the top of her head before reading the letter, gently trailing his fingers up and down her arm, avoiding her closer, sensitive stretches of skin.

"Xi Quan." Zuko's voice tightened, and he sat up rather suddenly, jerking Jin out of her sleepy torpor. She looked up, seeing him grip the letter with trembling hands, mouth making wordless shapes in failed comprehension. Jin sat up slowly, touching his shoulder. It _was_ bad news. "He wants me to meet him at his house as soon as I can... He says there's not much time." The scrap of paper fluttered down on the ragged sheet. The illusion was shattered; Zuko fell back into reality with a sobering crash. "I... I have to go." Jin watched him pull back the sheets, groping around on the floor for his clothes. A red-faced giggle threatened to burst at the sight of him, bent over without a stitch on, and she reluctantly lowered her gaze to the sheets, masking the sound with a cough. He turned, half in his pants with his shirt over her head. He pulled it down quickly, bending down and finding her lips. "Sorry." He whispered against them, pulling away. He wanted nothing more than retreat to the bed, with her, pull the sheet over her head and pretend that nothing else in the world existed. Instead, he had to bear the crippling guilt, look into the eyes of the man he had destroyed, and watch him disappear from his life. Zuko was silent as he pulled on the last of his clothes, smoothing down his hair as he stepped into his shoes, breaking down the final barrier between dream and reality and stepping into the street.

It was a decent walk to Xi Quan's home – one of those narrow, angled townhouses near the middle ring, where people had a whole house to themselves, and sometimes even a garden. His mother had one of them. His stomach knotted uncomfortably at the thought, and he kept his head down as he scurried past her closed doors, keeping his eyes low and hair over his scar.

It was in an odd little square, with an empty fountain in the middle, and strings of lanterns with the candles all burned out, blades of grass peeking through the cracking cobblestones. It looked as though it had been a very fine neighbourhood in its heyday, but rising taxes, season after season of bad harvests, and an unsteady political climate had gradually taken its toll on both the houses and the people, who grew demoralised and tired, letting their pretty little square slowly crumble around them.

It didn't say which house was theirs, but Zuko noticed in an instant the little ostrich-horse cart pulled up outside a set of open doors. A middle-aged woman already sat on the tiny front bench, nervously toying with a silken green scarf, winding it around her thin bony fingers, adorned with every ring she owned. There was a pile of luggage outside the cart, waiting to be loaded. A trunk of clothing. Two bundles of blankets. A chest of their most precious household paraphernalia. A small box containing Xi Quan's most precious books. That was all they could take from their three-storied townhouse. Xi Quan couldn't afford a bigger cart. They were starting to get pricey, as more and more terrified families considered taking their chances in the unknown wilderness.

"Xi Quan?" His voice trembled as he approached the cart, refusing to believe what he was seeing. He was growing nauseous. The middle-aged man bent over the box straightened, blinking behind his thick, unpolished glasses.

"Ah, my boy." There was an undeniable sadness etched on his face. "I was wondering when you would get here."

"You're not moving, are you?" His voice quavered again, and Zuko made a face, embarrassed at his obvious weakness. "Not out of the city..."

"There's nothing left for me. For us." He waved his hand down at his side. Zuko emerged from his introverted bubble, noticing for the first time the solitary figure on the doorstep with her head in her hands, crying loudly. "My daughter." Xi Quan explained, eyes downcast. "She was engaged to a lawyer, and he broke it off after I lost everything." He gave a shrug. "Perhaps it's a blessing in disguise. I always suspected he was after her money but she seemed so happy..." Zuko closed his eyes, feeling genuinely sick. So he could add a broken marriage to his list of failures. "But anyway," The man groaned, a hand on the small of his back. "I was wondering if you could help with some last-minute moving. I know I can't give you any money, but I h-"

"Of course." Zuko cut over him quickly. "Just show me what you need packed and moved, and I'll do it." How could he tell him to stay?

It didn't take long. The hardest part wasn't lifting the heavy chests, but figuring out how to stack them in the cart so they fitted, the axles creaking ominously under the strain. His wife kept her eyes downcast, mouth wrinkled in a small red knot. His daughter never moved from the stairs, never ceased in her pitiful tears. Zuko couldn't look at her, his heart sinking further and further in his chest as he was continuously reminded of the happiness he had inadvertently destroyed.

But finally, Zuko was forced to stand aside and watch as Xi Quan tried to haul his sobbing daughter to her feet and join his wife in the front of the covered cart. But she refused to move, her legs folding beneath her as the frail man struggled to make her stand. Zuko had to step in and physically carry her to the cart. She jerked as he first took her arms, and threw herself into him, sobbing into his shoulder. She must have thought he was her father. A hot blush settled over his cheeks, and he coughed awkwardly, rising to his feet with the girl in his arms. She gasped at the sound, breaking away from his shoulder, sobs dying in her throat. For the first time, Zuko was able to see her face. She was extremely pretty – at least, she would have been, without the tearstains and red-rimmed eyes, hair straggling over her blotchy face. She gave a single hiccup, embarrassed at her appearance, and wiped at her eyes and nose with a sleeve of yellow silk. Zuko set her down by the cart, and she clambered up herself, trying to smooth down her hair and straighten her clothes, not taking her eyes off him. Zuko bit down on hard on his lower lip returned to the ground, eyes trained almost resolutely at his feet.

"Where are you going to go?" Zuko finally raised his gaze as Xi Quan approached his elbow. His daughter still stared at him with wide brown eyes. "Do you have friends or relatives anywhere?"

"We're heading south-west. There's dozens of villages along the coast." Xi Quan forced a tiny, half-hearted smile.

"Are you going to start up another press?" Xi Quan shook his head, the smile sinking into something more pensive and accepting.

"I think it's time to move on. It's getting beyond my fragile bones to work the machines as it is." He really did sound convincing. "My wife has been telling me for while to sell up... this is just the last straw. I guess it was fate. Printing's not what it used to be. When I was a lad, any man could print whatever he wanted. We filled bookstores with poetry and philosophy and science. But times have changed. Regulation has taken hold and it's warped the business badly. It's been nothing but law tracts and advertising for far too long. My wife wants to open up a little inn on the coast. A fresh start isn't fresh if you're dragging the past over with you." Guilt and shame rolled over Zuko in a long, hot wave. "I'll be all right." He looked up at the sky, giving a little shrug. "I hope you'll be all right too, Lee."

"I'll get by." Zuko was absolutely miserable. "Take... Take care, Xi Quan."

"I will." He gave his old apprentice a short hug, one arm around his elbow. "You were the best apprentice I ever had. I'm sorry it had to end like this. Maybe if the Fire Nation are somehow driven out, we could come back..." It was a fantasy, told mainly to pacify him. There was no reason for him to ever come back to the breaking city.

"Xi honey, we're burning daylight here." The sharp voice of his wife sounded from the front of the ostrich-horse cart, hands still bound in the cloth. No doubt the move stung her badly. The man turned to look at her, something sagging in his face as he nodded.

"Yes, just one moment darling." He bent over, groaning as he hefted the box from the doorstep into his arms. "Lee, I just have to give you this one thing..." Zuko's throat closed as he was offered the box.

"No... No I can't." Zuko protested as it was pressed into his hands. He looked inside, seeing the handsome volumes. It smelled of old leather. He balanced the box on his knee, taking out the first book. The aged leather creaked in his hands as he opened the page at random. It was printed on vellum, with coloured ink and illustrations. They had to be worth a fortune. Zuko's hands trembled as he replaced the book. "Xi Quan, this is far too valuable..."

"I always kept a copy of everything I printed. These were the finest. I'd rather they were in the hands of someone who appreciated their craft than sold to a merchant." Xi Quan waved his hand. "Listen to me Lee." He leaned in, voice lowering. "I know you're going to have to sink low to get by in this city, but promise me, you won't forget what I've taught you. Ba Sing Se is going to need people who can spread the printed word. They will _need_ you. This war will not last forever. It might take years but the city will be free again. This won't be the last you hear from me, Lee. I'll send you a letter when we settle."

"All right." Zuko clutched the box close to his chest, eyes burning. "Farewell, I guess." He watched the former master clamber into the front of the cart, his wife and daughter moving alongside to accommodate him. It was a very tight fit. The girl was still looking at him, and Zuko caught again those wide, tearful brown eyes that wrenched at his heart, before the cart turned away, drawing out from the square. Zuko clung to the heavy box, the corners digging painfully into his chest as the guilt and humiliation rose in his soul, threatening to spill over. How could he be so disgraceful? He'd destroyed the man's livelihood and now watched, passively, as he walked away from the broken pieces of his life. He was cowardly and dishonourable, and he _knew_ it.

"N-No!" The cry tore from Zuko's throat before his brain could catch up, breaking into a run after the departing cart. "Wait!" He overtook the small group, seizing the reins of the ostrich-horses on one hand, clutching the heavy box with the other as he dug his heels into the ground. Xi Quan yanked the animals to a hard standstill, staring at Zuko with wide eyes.

"Just let me explain."

* * *

They decided to have their meeting in the sun. It was so bright, so warm and pleasant up on the deck. Nobody could blame them for their indulgence. They floated on blue glass, bobbing gently on an endless expanse that stretched beyond sight, in every direction. For a few moments, Katara genuinely felt as though they were the only people on the entire earth, that the earth was nothing but this endless rolling sea, and they would float on it forever.

Even Aang came up for some air. He walked with a limp, his shoulders hunched over, and he leaned heavily on a makeshift crutch, but he walked. He spent as much time as Katara would let him in the sun and air, listening to the wind whistle through the tiny crevices of the ship, lying on Appa as he watched the clouds. He missed Momo. His chest tightened at the thought of the little creature. It was almost as bad as losing Appa. At least with Appa, they were able to find him. They knew who took him and they were able to figure out where he had been taken. But they would never find Momo. Lemurs were rare, but not unique. Aang had no idea when he even went missing. The boy tried to remember the afternoon he had lost Momo, the afternoon when his world crumbled around him and he almost _died, _but it was a lost, hazy blur that sent a stab of pain through his chest. His memory failed him. Once, he tried to close his eyes and meditate, as he had with the Guru, feeling within him the pure cosmic energy and detachment. Maybe he could get back to that weightless spirit, entirely attuned to the world, and see things through Momo's eyes. But he was jarred, in too much pain, too anxious, to regain that inner peace and neutrality. And just a few minutes into trying, Katara interrupted him, asking him what he wanted for lunch. Aang looked into her wide blue eyes, her hair whipping around her face in the ocean wind, a smile plastered over her face, and he knew in a heartbeat he could never again come close to even considering letting her go. His detachment had cost her already. Her neck was bare, and although Aang rifled around the ship, he couldn't find anything he could clumsily weave into a new necklace. Not this time.

They all sat in a circle. It was a purposeful, democratic figure. No man was better than the other. But everyone had their eyes turned towards Hakoda, with his daughter on his left, and son on his right. Katara sat beside Aang, and Toph beside Sokka. The four of them hadn't spoken in a group for what seemed an age. There wasn't much any of them could say. Their routine had been interrupted, and they were oddly disjointed and lost. They didn't need to forage around for food, or pitch camp, or travel over land, or train. Everything was done for them. Hakoda's men kept the ship running without a hitch, and apart from the occasional watch (except of course, for Toph), they were left to their own devices. Toph slept a lot. Katara fussed over Aang, and took up writing a diary. Sokka, satisfied at last with his invasion plan, spend hours in the engine room, comparing the working parts to the blueprint in the hold, teaching himself how to turn the ambitious ideas in his head into clean, professional diagrams. The boat on the ocean was a fantasy land, where they didn't have to think about the world that teetered on the edge of destruction.

That was, until Hakoda called the meeting. Two weeks had passed, and it was time to make a decision. They would either plough on with their invasion plans, or accept their own fate and return home to their loved ones. Every man knew in his heart where they wanted to be. They ached for it. But none could back down from his sense of duty. Not when the last, barest thread of victory dangled just inches from their fingers.

"I cannot force any man to go against his own heart." They all sat, legs crossed, blue eyes fixed on Hakoda. Aang stared down at his hands. Toph threw her head back, not listening, apart from their petty concerns. She had her own backup plans, in case the water tribesmen backed down and decided to run home with their tails between their legs. Even though she was the youngest on the ship, she felt somehow older than those around her. "Two weeks ago, I said that I would make a decision based on what Katara had told me. But two weeks was a long time ago. We have lost three of our own men in that time." There were three spaces in the circle, three empty places where they would have sat. Sokka stared at Ulo's space, beside his grey-haired father. He felt hollow at the thought of the young man who he had grown up with, the familiar surge of grief welling within him, but simmering, not breaking the surface. "I have come to some... some very startling realisations, about what it means to a leader, and also my own humanity." He clapped his son on the shoulder, lips twitching in a small smile. "It is not my place to make a decision of his magnitude for the entire crew. Therefore, I will be putting it to a vote. Six weeks from now, the solar eclipse will render the Fire Nation helpless. It will be the last opportunity we have before Sozin's comet approaches and gives them the final burst of power to snuff us out forever. Sokka has shown me several different plans for the invasion, all of which have at least some chance of happening. Both Katara and Avatar Aang are confident that he will be fit enough to fight in six weeks." They both nodded. Aang firmly, Katara reluctantly. He would be healthy enough maybe, but fit? She knew that even a few weeks without training would leave the muscles soft and form sloppy. It would be _very_ tight. "But we must also be pragmatic, and consider abandoning our wartime efforts. The invasion is nothing more than a chance, and if we are captured or killed, our wives and children remain open to further attack without our protection. This has already threatened to happen." They had to tell them all about Zuko's appearance in their homeland, sparking the devastating chain of reaction that sent them all over the world. "The North Pole has shown repeatedly that they have the natural and human defences to withstand even the full force of the Fire Nation navy. They are still our brothers and sisters, even on the other side of the world. There is no doubt in my mind that if we approached them as refugees, they would accept us into their tribe with open arms." Hakoda's stomach clenched at the thought. He'd heard things about the Northern Tribe from his mother, and they were unsettling. Their treatment of women, particularly, left him cold. Although Katara claimed she'd won over their master water bender, Hakoda wasn't sure he wanted the wives and daughters of his comrades raised in such a downtrodden position. It sounded so fatalistic. Everything was only a chance. A chance to live, escape, eke out a miserable existence with the constant knowledge that it was only a matter of time. Or a chance to bring the Fire Nation to its knees in a bold statement of war that would almost certainly decimate their numbers. "With this information in your mind, I ask you all to search your heart. I will be putting the invasion plan to a vote. If it is a tie, we will have a recount. If the vote is tied again, Aang's vote will count for two." It was the fairest way he could think of. He looked around the circle. Most of the men looked decided, their mouths in hard lines and eyes cold and stern. They probably sat down with their resolve already set. Hakoda took in a deep breath. "Every man who believes we should abandon our efforts and return home to protect our families, raise your hand."

Every single hand remained down. Hakoda's eyes widened as he looked from man to man. None raised their hand. Even Ulo's father kept his hands in his lap. Hakoda's heart swelled with a new sense of pride and belief in his men, and the smile that lingered around his lips broke out into a full grin, for just a moment before he coughed, reassembling his features.

"Every man who thinks we should attempt an invasion on the Fire Nation capital, raise your hand." Halfway through, Hakoda realised that a number of them may refuse to vote entirely. Perhaps they thought both options were terrible, and they had a third idea they wanted to float. Hakoda never thought to open the floor up for suggestions before voting. How was that fair and democratic of him? His heart seized in fear for a moment, but as quickly as it came, it dissolved. Every single person, _except Aang_, raised their hand. The smile reappeared on his lips as he dipped his head in a nod. "I knew in my heart that you would all come to the right decision." Hakoda turned his eyes up to the sky for a moment. _Phew._ "The invasion will go ahead as planned. We will begin sending out notifications to our allies as soon as we hit land. We will gather supplies, and then head for the Fire Nation."

"Wait, _no!"_ Aang broke out. Katara gripped his hand, staring wide-eyed at the boy. "I still don't agree with this plan. This is _my_ fight, not anybody else's. Nobody else should have to risk their lives against the Fire Nation."

"With all due respect, Aang," And Hakoda really did try to keep his tone as respectful as he could. "We've been risking ourselves against the Fire Nation for almost a hundred years. " Aang's eyes lowered as his throat became stuck. "I understand that you feel this is your burden and yours alone, but it's not. This is our world as much as it is yours, and we have the right to fight for it." Hakoda paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "We will go ahead with this invasion Aang, and we would appreciate it greatly if you were to be a part of it." Katara was still squeezing his hand. Aang's shoulders slumped, and he closed his eyes in a long sigh, unheard. It was useless to try and talk to them.

"It's all right." Katara's voice was in his ear. He looked up at her as the men around them began to relax, leaning back and chatting to one another, or rising to their feet and getting on with their everyday tasks. The mood was less solemn than one would expect. They had expected the invasion for several weeks – this was just a confirmation, and no one was against it. "Dad's right. I've been telling you, everyone's been fighting for a long time and we need to all pull together for one more chance."

"I just don't want anyone to be hurt because of me." Aang murmured, wishing more than ever that he had Momo in his lap to stroke and cuddle. Katara clicked her tongue, thinking of how she could phrase it. But it was Sokka who leaped in, plonking himself down before the pair with his legs drawn partway up, clasped arms resting on his knees.

"If you don't want anyone hurt on your watch, then you should be there with us." He had become so painfully pragmatic over the past few weeks. Katara wanted to hit him. "We're going to do this, Aang. And I guarantee, more people will be hurt if you're not there to back us up." Aang looked beyond both of them, out to the open ocean. It seemed so distant, separate from their sunny afternoon. They were going to travel into the very heart of darkness and nobody knew who would be coming back. "We need you and you know that."

"I know." Aang murmured. "I just wish there was another way."

"Everyone wishes there was another way." Toph spoke up, flopping down on Sokka's right, lying on her back with her face turned up to the sky. "But this is the hand we're dealt with, and we have to play it."

"Do you think we'll win, Toph?" Aang sounded so tiny and intimidated and unsure. It rattled her. She found she couldn't speak definitively on either side. So she shrugged half-heartedly. "Sokka?"

"I have more faith in the invasion plan than anybody." There was a hint of pride, a definite swagger in his voice. Of course he had faith in it. He was the one who thought it up. Katara thought it was heartless, but it wasn't. It was realistic. Aang's eyes flicked to the girl that sat beside him, still holding his hand.

"Katara?"

"I... I have faith that Sokka knows best." She eventually stated, forcing down an inward cringe. It seemed to her such an obvious, blatant lie. But it seemed Sokka and Aang believed her. Toph blew out her bangs, rolling her blind eyes. It was damn obvious that she hated the plan but had lost the debate with her brother. But of course Aang believed her. His blind adoration of Katara had grown even more sickening over the past week. In his eyes, she could do no wrong. Aang didn't have a response. He just looked down at his own hands. Sokka tried to think of something he could say, maybe a bad joke, but his mind was totally empty. He leaned back, keeping his mouth shut. Katara tightened her hold on Aang's hand even further, quiet and guilty. The four had lapsed into a meditative, almost brooding silence, which no one wanted to break.

But they remained on the deck, together, for a long time.

* * *

**Yay sexytimes. I tried to keep it somewhat classy. That being said I'm not going to have long tracks of smut, which is technically beyond the ratings of this site anyways. **


	31. Chapter 31

**__Boo-yah. I can't even say something properly at the start. I'm late for work. But I want to get this out today. Now. I'm dead excited.  
**

* * *

_I just had the most awful dream._

_I dreamed that I was back Home. It was in the midsummer, when the sun is up for weeks, and I was out on the ice with Sokka, looking for a spot to fish. He found the perfect spot, and struck the ice with his hatchet, and there was this horrible great roar, and the ice collapsed around him, and he started to fall into the water. But it wasn't water. It was liquid fire. Lava. Like the volcano in Aunt Wu's village. He was __screaming__, holding on to the edge of the ice with his hands, screaming so loudly that he was burning. And I was running towards him, but with every step I took, he was getting further and further away, until he fell completely with this horrible cry. And then the ice started melting and crumbling, everywhere, and I tried to run away from it, but I couldn't move. All I could do was watch as the ice dissolved beneath my feet and I fell into the liquid fire._

_Aang says I was screaming in my sleep, screaming for Sokka. He tried to snap me out of it, but nothing would wake me up. I just remembered a huge rush, and a roar, and everything was bright yellow. And I woke up to see Aang's big grey eyes looking over at me in the lamplight. I was still crying for Sokka, trapped in the dream. All I could hear was him screaming as he was being burned alive, over and over and over. Dad must have heard me, because he came rushing in, all breathless. I was still hysterical because I was __so scared__. I'd been so helpless, and it seemed so vivid and real to me. I could feel the heat of the fire in the dream, I could smell it. Dad tried to calm me down, tried to tell me that it was just a dream, but I pushed him away. I didn't want him, I wanted Sokka. Eventually, he came stomping into the room, all bleary and tired, rubbing at his eyes. He muttered that I was crazy, but he sat down beside me and just held his arm around me and I just cried and cried. I remember blubbering into his shirt, making him promise that he wasn't going to fall into the fire. He must have thought I was crazy. He tried to make me lie back down, but I didn't want to go to sleep. Eventually I calmed down enough and he went back to his own room. Dad left too, and it was just Aang and I. I said I was all right, it was just a nightmare, but he didn't want to leave me alone. It was sweet, but I just wanted to be by myself. I pretended to go to sleep, and he finally went back into his own room next door. _

_When I had my future predicted by Aunt Wu, one of the things she asked me about was dreams. She said dreams were important – not in that they predicted the future, even she admitted that was ridiculous, but they revealed a person's deepest recesses of the mind. She showed me a great book of hers, which explained the meaning of a persons' dreams. Like flying, or colours, or animals or people. But I couldn't remember any of my dreams. She said I should try and remember them, write them down. I didn't even remember her words, for the longest time. _

_It doesn't take a genius to figure out what my subconscious is trying to tell me. I want to go home. I'm scared for Sokka. I'm scared that the both of us, and our home, will be burned to ashes. It doesn't take a great big book to know that. I'm scared. I don't mind admitting it, especially in a book like this, where no one will read it. I'm __terrified__. What if we don't win? What if Aang or Sokka or Dad or Toph dies? What if I die? I mean, I'd sacrifice myself in a heartbeat, to save any of them, but that doesn't mean I'm not horrified at the thought. Even though I try to tell myself that everything will be all right, I'm just not sure any more. Maybe I'm cracking up. But it seemed so much __easier__ when it was just the three or four of us wandering around the Earth Kingdom, running into trouble perhaps once every couple of weeks. We didn't know what we were doing. We didn't need to know. It was just a vague 'sometime by the end of summer', and we left it at that. All we could do was practise and train and try to help troubled people we came into contact with. Even at the North Pole, we just stood back while the decisions were made around us. We were defensive. It was __scary__, but nothing like this. Now, we have a deadline, a goal, a mission. We're going to pour everything we've got into this, and all we can do is cross our fingers and hope. Sokka if you do read this (and you __**BETTER NOT BE**__), I hate your plan! I hate everything about it, diving ourselves in half and leaving loyal and brave men to be the cannon fodder while you launch some sort of hare-brained sneak attack. It's not right. It's not fair. It's not how battle should be fought._

_I guess, if Ozai had the chance, he wouldn't fight fair either. Neither would Azula. The both of them would take a sneaky, underhanded way to victory, if they could. Azula already did. In fact, the only one who fought against us without resorting to trickery or sneak attacks was... Him._

_I refuse to write his name down, or say it in my head. Or picture his face. Every time I do, the anger and all the emotions just come rushing back, and I feel sick. I can't even put it down into words, how I feel. I'm trying. When I think about everything he's done to us, I get this blind rage and my hands start shaking. But I saw him at his most vulnerable. I saw him lose the people closest to him and he was __crying__. And I'm trying to reconcile these two images of him in my head and I don't know what to think anymore._

_I have to stop now. My hand is cramping up and I can hear people above me. It must finally be morning. _

* * *

"How?"

Zuko's hands were a twisted, clammy mess as he watched Xi Quan. The man stood before the covered wheelbarrow with a finger on his chin. He'd lifted the blanket and crouched down before the press, checking the number stamped on the underside of the metallic arm. It was his all right. Zuko stood beside him, neck turned. "I was there before you. How did you get this?"

"I... I got it the night before." Zuko's voice was hoarse. "Along with that stuff." He jerked his head towards Kuei, who stood beside the heavy trunk of paper and tiles and ink. Kuei watched the proceedings awkwardly, staring around himself at the same time, taking in the dilapidated little square. "I've been storing it with a friend and..." Zuko trailed off. He honestly didn't have any justification. No way to finish that sentence. No excuse for what he had done.

"Why didn't you tell me?" The man looked up at the boy he called his apprentice, brows knitted in a tight frown. "I still don't understand how you got it. Why did you lie?" Lie. The word cut through Zuko, and he closed his eyes, trying to swallow the humiliation that rose in his stomach. He didn't want to do this. Oh Agni. If only the earth would part, and swallow him whole, right now. _You knew this was coming, you coward._

"I..." Zuko's voice died in his throat, and he shook his head, unable is to raise his eyes. He stared down at his shoes. "It's my fault." He whispered.

"Eh?" The man leaned in a little, a frown deepening the lines around his bespectacled eyes. "What's your fault?"

"The shop." Zuko's lips barely moved. He was utterly incapable of raising his voice and his eyes. He muttered and shuffled in his shoes. "I did it."

"What on earth are you talking about my boy?" Zuko's stomach tightened. _Please for the love of Agni don't call me yours. _

"I..." _Spiritis be damned._ His nerve was failing him. Zuko pulled his lips in a tight, closed line, his chin trembling. _Why can't you yell at me? Please, just yell at me._ At least then Zuko would be able to shout back, try and defend himself. He was so much better at shouting than talking.

"Is this about you not locking the door?" Zuko's head snapped up, mouth falling open.

"Th-The door?"

"You didn't lock it. It's a tricky lock, it catches all the time. You have to turn the key twice. I went back just before sundown to pick a few things up. Oh Lee, you poor thing." The wrinkled brow smoothed a little in false understanding. "You went back to check and found the place ransacked... No wonder you've been on edge all week." Zuko hands clenched into fists inside his sleeves. _No that's wrong that's not what happened tell him you coward, you pathetic useless liar look him in the eye and tell him the truth don't you dare back down __**don't you dare**_. "The door was broken in Lee, there wasn't any way it could have been prevented." _That's not true. _"None of it was your fault."

"Yes it was." But Zuko's head was bowed, the words coming out in a whisper, and Xi Quan didn't hear him. Instead, he walked over to the heavy trunk, rifling through the stacks of paper and shifting tiles. He took out the carved little box that held his money, silently counting it with his eyes. Every coin was still intact. Something uncomfortable and foreboding pushed in Xi Quan's chest at the sight of the money. It wasn't particularly well-hidden in his store, just on a shelf underneath his desk. He looked back into the trunk. It was finest, thickest paper, the majority of his ink stock. It didn't make sense to him. Harsh reality stared him in the face, but he turned away from it, in disbelief. _It was impossible_. It was inconceivable. Lee was above deception and reproach. He wasn't capable of something so thoughtless and destructive.

"I can't take it with me." He finally spoke up after a long, uncomfortable silence, where Zuko couldn't bring himself to tell the truth out loud and Xi Quan refused to consider it. "The cart is too small, I would have to get rid of my wife's furniture and daughter's clothes to make it fit." He almost smiled at the thought. "I can't get a bigger cart now. Every merchant is town is trading the clothes of his back for carriage out of the city." He turned back to face his former apprentice. "Take it."

"What?" Zuko's voice was a strangled cry in his throat. "Xi Quan, I-I can't... It's _yours_."

"Did I not just say I had no future in this?" The man closed the lid of the trunk, pushing it towards Zuko with his foot. Kuei stood silently, awkwardly, watching the exchange with no real idea of what was happening. "I could sell it, yes. One of my rivals would pay me handsomely for this, but I don't want them to have it. I want it to go to _you._" Zuko crouched down in front of the trunk, head bowed. He couldn't speak. "I trust you will take care of it for me."

_You can't trust me with anything you fool._ Zuko ran his hands over the smooth wooden panelling, pushing down the bubble of guilt and anger that threatened to erupt. _You can't trust a lying coward like me._ The hand that gently fell on his shoulder felt like a blow. Zuko inwardly shrank away from the touch, remaining still and silent in the outside world.

"I really have to go now." Xi Quan was murmuring quietly, his voice threatening to shake. He obviously didn't want to leave. "Good luck." Zuko kept his eyes purposefully downcast as he heard the man rise, the groaning of a stressed axle and the creaking of wheels. He didn't chase after him this time. Even though the truth remained blurred and obscured, Zuko didn't try to clear his own conscience. He realised, as he looked the ageing man in the eye and tried to form the words on his own dry lips, that the truth would do nothing but destroy the trust he had built between them, the fragile security that Xi Quan had invested in his own life's work. Was it really a failing then? Or was it some sort of compassion, an attempt to spare his feelings?

Bullshit.

"So... Are we taking this back?" Zuko's head jerked up at Kuei's voice. He'd entirely forgotten that the young King was standing there, watching the entire messy exchange between them. Zuko opened his mouth to respond, but his throat was dry and hoarse. He coughed uncomfortably as he rose to his feet, nodding in silence.

"... Yeah." He cleared his throat again, but his voice was still a rasp. "I guess it's mine now." Kuei groaned. The effort of wheeling the cart was a considerable strain on his frail arms. "Sorry." Zuko was still staring at the trunk. "Thanks for taking it out for me. I owe you."

"No problem." Kuei arched his back in a long stretch, before taking a grasping the wheelbarrow by the handles. In all honesty, he was glad to get outside for some air. He didn't like being shut up inside, but at the same time, he was far too afraid to venture out alone. Not with the Fire Nation about. He knew he couldn't protect himself, and he didn't trust any of the elderly men of the White Lotus to be of any real assistance. At least Prince Zuko had a definite air of someone who knew how to throw a punch. It was strange, but Kuei felt oddly _safe_ around him. He was slowly starting to trust the young Prince. They had spoken several times since their first meeting, short, awkward pleasantries that dissolved into mumbled, uncertain questions, usually on Kuei's part. Zuko felt sorry for him. Kuei felt sorry for himself. He didn't like talking about the city, the invasion, his own failings. Zuko understood, better than anyone ever could, his humiliations, and left the subject alone, the time-word advice that only he could give lingering silent in the air, waiting for Kuei to eventually broach the subject. "You look like you're going to throw up." Kuei had paused before Zuko, looking very clearly at him with his stern jade-green eyes. He didn't miss a thing.

"I lied to him." Zuko crouched down in front of the large trunk, ready to hoist it in his arms. He traced his finger over the brass latch. His hand trembled. He rested his forehead on the cool metal for a moment, emptying his lungs in one long, slow breath. His eyes drifted closed. Kuei stood awkwardly beside him, one arm outstretched, hovering uncertainly in the space between them. His hand drifted closer, about to make contact. But before his fingertips brushed cloth and skin, Zuko jerked up with a short, ugly gasp, a rough intake of breath that choked in his throat. His face was red, eyes oddly bright. He rose to his feet once more, the trunk in his arms. He turned away from the King, young and naive and still older than himself, ignoring the outstretched hand.

"Suit yourself then." Kuei whispered to the warm afternoon air.

* * *

"I wondered when you'd be coming home."

Jin ran to embrace him, gently touching the back of his neck, whispering an apology in his ear and gently coaxing him to take a seat in one of their two chairs. Treating him like glass. Zuko accepted the pleasantries quietly. A steaming cup of green tea was pushed into his hands and he sipped at it half-heartedly. Jin perched on the arm of the chair beside him, looking down at his downcast face. She played it cautiously. She had her own revelations for him.

"How did it go?" He shrugged silently, not looking at her. Zuko felt drained. How could he be so happy, so euphoric one moment, and so utterly depressed the next? What was wrong with him? Everything that had happened to him that day, he had instigated. He had no one to blame but himself, and he knew it. "Lee?"

"He's gone." Zuko spoke simply, hands cupped around the cup of tea, breathing in the steam. Jin was slowly stroking his hair, trying to comfort him. "He's getting out of the city while he still can."

"Oh, I'm sorry." She leaned down, kissed him on the top of the head. Zuko bore it silently, teeth gritted. He wasn't worthy of apologies. "Did you get to talk to him?"

"Yes." Zuko breathed on the rim of the cup. Jin heard his tiny voice. "I tried to give him back his press."

"Tried?" Jin's fingers stilled in his hair. He nodded silently. "What happened?"

"He told me to keep it." Zuko kept his eyes closed, not wanting to look at anyone or anything. "He didn't want it anymore."

"Oh Lee, I'm so sorry." She'd slipped into calling him Lee. Was someone else around? He thought everyone was still out. He kept his tongue still, not wanting to correct her. He liked the name. "Will you be all right?"

"I don't know." He spoke honestly, tightening his hands around the cup. "I really don't know Jin." He breathed, head bowed. "I don't know how much I can take."

"Oh..." She slipped into the seat beside him, squeezing in. They were both thin, and if she rested her legs over his lap, it was reasonably comfortable. Zuko set the tea down and she embraced him tightly. It was heartbreaking, to watch him suffer, knowing there was no comfort or consolation she could offer him. Nothing that would be enough. Just a distraction. "I had a visitor while you were away, you know."

"Hm?" Zuko sounded mildly interested. Jin swallowed, nodding against him.

"Your mother." She felt him stiffen, jerk away from her. Jin sat up, pulling away from him, forcing a smile. "She wanted to invite us over for dinner."

"Wh-what?" Zuko stared agape at her. "Dinner?"

"She said she wants to talk things over with you. Something about a fresh start. They just moved house. Anyway, I said we'd be there at sundown." She didn't pose it to him as a question, he might just say no to her. Zuko was still staring at her, shaking his head slightly.

"What does she want..." He muttered. "I-I don't understand."

"She's your _mother_. She wants to know you, and have a relationship with you. That's natural Zuko." She used his real name again. He dropped his gaze, still shaking his head. "You have to go."

"I-I..." He swallowed. "I don't know what to say to her."

"Then don't." Jin spoke gently. "Just listen." She touched his cheek, their noses inches apart. His eyes closed as she kissed him, remaining still and unyielding. But at least he didn't pull away. Jin rested her forehead against his. "We're going. I know you think she must hate you by now, but I promise you, she doesn't. She sounded desperate. She knows you've started off on the wrong footing and she wants to set it right. That goes both ways."

"I've been horrible to her." His voice was a soft, almost inaudible murmur. But Jin caught it. She was close enough to hear him breathe. "She deserves a better son than me."

"You're wonderful." Jin said simply, taking his hands, lacing their fingers together. "I promise you." She kissed him, again. Harder this time, angling her head. She disentangled their hands, her slim fingertips brushing the side of his neck as she gripped his collar. How many times did she have to try and convince Zuko that he really was a good person? He seemed so reluctant to believe her. He panted as they broke apart for air, his hands on her face.

"Come on." She stood up, gripping his wrist. "I'll make you forget all about them." Her eyes flashed, playful, teasing, sensual. The corner of her mouth twitched in a smile. She couldn't help herself. Remembrance of that morning had left her breathless, she had to have him again. It was a cheap trick on her part, making him forget about his problems with sex, but damn, it _worked_. In her experience, nothing else made a boy truly leave his senses. Nothing soothed a turbulent mind like violent passion. Zuko stood still for a moment, confused and oddly disgusted, with her for suggesting, it himself for even considering it. She was still smiling, head cocked to one side. Zuko opened his mouth to protest, to say no, but his body betrayed him. He followed her blindly, surrendering to her. How could he disagree? Nothing to him had ever felt as_ good_ as that morning. He thought it would all be a blur, but every moment, every sound and every image, stood out in his mind. He'd be lying if he said he didn't want more.

Jin led him out of the room in silence.

* * *

The door was much simpler than the last one.

There was no pretty carving, no slot for mail, no bell. Just simple panelling. Zuko stared at it silently. At his left, Jin gave a small cough.

"You have to open it some time, Lee." He turned his head slightly, catching her face. She stared at him, impassively. She wasn't going to turn on the charm this time. He needed a firm push. "Just knock on the door."

"I..." Zuko cleared his throat. A harsh rasp had sounded from his throat, sounding foreign, something like an animal. "I know." That was better. More _normal._ He felt Jin's hand tighten around his, fingers stroking along the knuckles. "In a moment."

"Now." She knocked on the door herself, shaking her head. If Zuko was going to be difficult about it, she didn't have much choice. She understood why he was tentative, but it didn't make it any less frustrating. Zuko made an odd, strangled noise in his throat, taking a step back from the door as he heard the latch click. But Jin had a firm grasp on his hand, pulling him forward.

"Hello there." Ursa smiled in the doorway, eyes soft. Jin inclined her head in a light bow. Zuko stood rooted to the ground as the familiar pressure rose in his chest, sticking in his throat. He still wasn't used to seeing her. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was that horrible, animals' sound. He cleared his throat again, hiding his free hand in his pocket so Ursa wouldn't see the trembling.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled quietly. He couldn't look at her. He was a spoiled brat the last time they spoke, and he knew it. There was no justification for shouting at his mother, not ever. Ursa just smiled again, wordlessly pulling the door open and inviting them inside. Her hand rested on his shoulder as they past, squeezing tightly. She forgave him. In her eyes, she deserved worse, for what she had done to him.

"Were you able to find the place all right?" Ursa attempted light, breezy conversation. Zuko nodded wordlessly, staring at the simple room around them. It was certainly plainer. The walls were bare and the floorboards not quite even. Although Ursa had dressed it up with rugs and a few nice pieces of furniture, it was still obviously much, much less. "I know it's not as nice." She followed Zuko's eyes. "But times are going to get tough. We have to tighten our belts." She repeated her husbands' words so perfectly. But he was _right_. He was being cautious and paranoid about the state of the city, but he was perfectly right and they both knew it.

"Are you kidding?" Jin thought it was lovely. "Lee shares a room with four other boys."

"Four?" Zuko nodded silently. Ursa's heart tightened. Her poor baby. She knew this poverty would still grate on him. She'd grown up herself with much less, finding luxuries and riches disconcerting. This was a happy compromise for her. But Zuko had had everything handed to him, done for him, since his birth. She wondered how he coped. She underestimated him. "Do you want to see the rest before dinner?"

"Sure." Jin spoke for Zuko again, the latter remaining silent, and uncomfortable. How was Jin able to muster up breezy conversation so easily? He just felt awkward and cumbersome. His hands felt too big for his sleeves. His mother tried so hard to be accommodating and forgiving. Too hard. It felt like a painful pantomime.

It got worse. Ursa showed him the rooms where they cooked and ate. Her own bedroom, the little nursery where Enlai was dressing his daughter. He couldn't manage anything beyond a short greeting. The wound was still fresh. Ursa's face and smile were forced and strained, as though carved in stone. It unsettled Zuko. It was horrible. He didn't understand the apprehension behind the mask, the growing nervousness.

"We have one more room." Ursa spoke quietly at the end of the hallway. For a moment, the mask slipped, she bit her lip, chin quivering. But with a short gasp, she replaced the mask, all apparent traces of nervousness gone. Jin and Zuko stared at the tiny, lopsided staircase. "The attic."

_Why is she showing us the attic?_ Jin wondered silently as she began to follow the woman up the tiny stairs. Zuko was brooding, distracted. He hadn't followed much of the awkward tour, too busy watching his mother's terrifying face. The door was low, and all three had to stoop to make their way through. Ursa's face became even more false and strained, her hands positively shaking as she stood beside the doorway. The room had already been lit with two lanterns, in anticipation. It was smaller than Ursa's bedroom, bigger than the nursery. There were two windows on the left, shuttered. It was furnished simply, almost sparsely. A bed, a chair, a little chest of drawers, a rug on the floor. Jin took it all in an instant, looking from the bed to Ursa, and back again. Comprehension dawned. No _wonder_ she was nervous. Jin looked back over to Zuko. He stared into empty space, not understanding. Ursa was watching him carefully, sizing him up, shoulders raising as she took a long, deep breath.

"I have to go to the bathroom." Jin blurted out, face reddening. Ursa's head snapped over to her. "Sorry... I'll just be a moment." She pushed past them, hunching over to get through the door, running down the stairs, away from them. She shouldn't be there. It was intrusive.

"Well... What do you think of the room?" Ursa asked carefully, wringing her hands. Zuko looked up from the floorboards, over to her. "Is it nice?"

"Yeah... I guess." Zuko was confused. Why was she asking his opinion on this? Why did it matter? She didn't ask what he thought about any of the other rooms. "It's all right."

"Good... I'm glad you like it." Ursa stepped towards him, taking another deep, long breath. She grabbed his hand. Zuko jumped at the touch, staring at her. The mask had crumbled entirely. Her lip was quivering, eyes downcast and uncertain. "Because... It's yours. If you want it."

"Huh?" Zuko frowned, not understanding at first. "What do you mean, mine?"

"I mean... I want you to live here." Ursa steeled herself. "This will be your room. I've talked to Enlai about it, he's willing to let you live here." She didn't say _happy._ "We don't have to rush into anything Zuko. Just stay here for a week or so. See how it goes." She started to babble, her nervousness getting the better of her. She was terrified he would say no.

"You want me here?" Zuko was still confused. What had he done to deserve this? All he'd done was shout at her. Ursa nodded. "Why?"

"You're my _son_ Zuko." She took his other hand. "I know I haven't been there for a long time. I know there's nothing I can say or do to repair the damage. But I want to be here for you again. I want to look after you and give you a home. A real home."

"You already have a family." Why was he shutting himself off from her? He was scared. It was an overwhelming idea for him, and his reaction was to withdraw from it, entirely, rather than face it. "And I'm living with Jin."

"In a room with four other boys?" She arched an eyebrow. "Zuko, you're _in_ my family. Nothing would make me happier than have you in my house." She squeezed his hands. "You don't have to say yes right now. I know it's a lot to think about." Agni, she was trying so hard. "Just... consider it for me."

"I will." Zuko breathed. Ursa broke into a smile, wrapping her arms about him in an embrace. Zuko leaned against her shoulder silently, the emotions engulfing him. He never expected _this._ All he had was a tentative suggestion that they try again, and now she was offering her house to him. He could _live_ with her, have her make his breakfast and mend his clothes. He saw the way Shan treated her own boys, and it made him jealous. She scolded them, gave them chores, ruffled their hair affectionately, kissed them goodnight. He watched it silently, burning inside. He was still an outsider to them. They tried, but he wasn't one of them, not really. He wasn't their flesh and blood. Zuko lifted his head, looking past Ursa into the little room. He imagined sleeping on the bed, eating breakfast in the sitting room, looking after his half-siblings, helping his mother with the shopping. Stupid, banal errands that so many other people took for granted. His heart ached at the thought. _How could he say no to her?_

"Come on, dinner will be almost ready." Ursa gently pushed him on the shoulder, coaxing him to leave the room. Zuko obeyed in silence, mind whirling at what his mother had just offered him. A _home._ Already he was almost resolved. Why would he say no?

Zuko stopped short in the doorway. Jin sat on the couch, waiting. She looked nervous. Her gaze shifted at the sound, up to Zuko's face. Something in her own expression tightened. Her eyes were wide, pleading with him. A question he couldn't answer. Zuko's heart sank in realisation. Jin would feel like he was abandoning her. How else would it seem to her? Rejecting the hospitality of her own family. But it was for his mother! Surely she would see that understand. She knew better than anyone else the confusion and turmoil that had consumed his mind. She wouldn't be so selfish, surely. He wished he could pull her aside, talk to her for just a few moments, to make her understand.

But her large, begging eyes, made him feel sick. He turned away from her, breathing shallow.

_Dammit._

* * *

"Hello."

Jin's view of the stars became blocked by Zuko's face. She lay on his lap with her hair loose, spread out over his legs. He couldn't see much of her in the darkness, just a shadow, a vague shape with green eyes that caught the light of some faraway star. She blinked, shifted a little, and the light died. "Are you cold?" Zuko shook his head as he bent down over her. His hair was long enough to softly graze her cheek as he kissed her, his back straining uncomfortably with the effort. It was so soft, so quiet in the night, with curfew darkening the streets, driving the people indoors, huddled around dim lanterns, whispering. But Jin and Zuko were both confident that nobody would see them in their private rooftop world.

They'd started escaping together. Zuko would lay in wait, listening in the dark for the four boys around him to stop whispering and succumb to long, slow breathing. Then, he would slip out through the window, hauling himself on to the roof, where Jin patiently waited. They balanced hand-in-hand across the sloping rooftops, til they came to the end of the row of terraced houses, where Jin claimed the attic room housed only an old deaf woman. Sometimes they curled up in the slanted space where the lopsided houses met, whispering to each other. Sometimes, they stretched out on the tiles and watched the stars inch across the sky. Zuko was convinced his cousin was up there. He claimed that as a child, his Uncle told him that the souls of his dead family became stars. After hearing the story of the moon, Jin half believed him.

But that night, they were taking the long way home. After dinner with Ursa, they walked in an awkward silence, unsure of what to say to each other. Dinner itself was pleasant enough. Ursa had relaxed, after approaching Zuko about moving in. She smiled and laughed, genuinely. Even Zuko managed to crack a grin. But as they left, he sank into a deep, brooding silence. So Jin suggested that they detour, going back to their favourite rooftop hideout.

"Come here." He tugged gently at Jin's hands, coaxing the girl to sit up. She obliged silently, leaning into him as he put his hand on the back of his neck, and they lay back down together, looking up at the same stars, Jin leaning against his collarbone. His eyelids drooped. He felt exhausted.

"You don't still feel bad about Xi Quan, do you?" Jin's voice was a soft murmur in the balmy night. Zuko wove his fingers through her hair, lazily sifting through the thick locks. She felt him sigh heavily, the other hand drifting down to rest on her hip.

"I lied to him." He whispered, screwing his face up in the night. He was gad Jin couldn't see him. "I had one last opportunity to make things right and I _lied_, right to his damn face." Zuko spoke with bitter regret. "I don't know why, but I just couldn't do it. I couldn't bring myself to admit the truth. I meant so much to him. After all those long years of searching, he finally found somebody he could trust his life's work too. How could I tell him that the person he had faith in is the one who destroyed him?"

"You didn't destroy him." Jin spoke calmly and rationally, with the conviction of a girl who had turned the same predicament over and over in her own mind. "Every other printer in the city has lost everything too. It all got shut down. At least your boss was able to take enough money to get out. Isn't that what you wanted in the first place? Isn't that why you broke in?"

"I don't know why I did that." Zuko muttered, still livid with his stupidity. "I don't know what I was thinking. But the press was supposed to go to him. It's his, not mine. I don't deserve it."

"Clearly, you do." Jin clenched Zuko's free hand. "Or else he wouldn't have given it to you." Zuko kept quiet, looking up at the night sky, trying to remember any of the constellations he had been taught in his boyhood. But they had all slipped away in his mind, dissipating in the wind. They were shapeless and random in the velvety blackness. They didn't make any sense to him. Jin lingered for several moments, waiting for a response from him. But he remained silent, unwilling to speak, and with a muted sigh, she turned a little to the side, nose pressed into his neck. "Did you think any more about your Mum's offer?" Jin tried to rouse conversation after a long, quiet minute. She felt Zuko shift a little beneath her, uncomfortably. "I won't be hurt if you said yes." Jin spoke softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"You won't be?" Zuko pulled apart from her, and sat up. She played with the end of her braid, nodding silently, not looking at him. "I can't thank you and your family enough for taking me in. I wish there was some way to repay you, properly." Zuko's hand rested on her shoulder. "I don't want you to feel like I'm abandoning you Jin. I'm not."

"I know you're not, don't be silly." She took his hand off of her shoulder, squeezing his cold fingers gently between her palms. "She's your mother. She wants you there. She needs you there Zuko." Jin stretched her lips in a small smile. Of course it hurt her. Of course she would rather have him there. But she would never be selfish enough to get between him and his mother. She'd gone down that road before, with other boys, and it always went bad. They'd always side with their mothers, in the end. "She wants you to be part of her family."

"And I want to be there." He was looking down at his knees. "I do... But Agni, it's going to be so strange. I have a baby brother and sister. And a stepfather. It just... It seems so _weird_. She moved on with her life so quickly after us." Zuko curled his fingers around Jin's warm palm. "She severed herself from us, completely."

"And you haven't?" Jin stared at him, an ivory gleam on their rooftop world of silver-brushed shadows. "I mean... If you could just stay here for ever... You would, wouldn't you?" Her eyes lowered, just a little. She kept flicking her gaze up to him, tentatively looking for a reaction, the emotions that she knew he could never put into words. Zuko's eyes were wide and shining in the moonlight, his mouth hanging just a little open. His tender grip on Jin's hand slackened for a moment, and he grasped her again, tighter than ever.

"I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it." He chose his words carefully. He was playing with her heart, he knew, and just one word out of place could destroy her. "I've been... I've been happier here, with you, than I have since I was a child." He still was a child. "If I could choose my own life, without any fear of consequence, I would stay here in a heartbeat." Her pretence dropped, and she stared at him openly, her eyes large and round and dark in her half-lit face. He could see the shadows of her eyes in the corner of his eyes, but couldn't meet her gaze. Why couldn't he look her in the eye? "I never would have imagined it, but we're really really good together. You're one of the strongest, smartest girls I know," He couldn't say _the most._ Not while his sister breathed. "And you're not beaten down by this city. You thrive in it. There's this light around you. And you don't care about what anyone says or thinks. Everyone else has judged me in an instant, the moment they learn my true name, with hatred and anger."

"You're more than a name." She spoke as soon as Zuko paused to draw breath. "Everyone's allowed a fresh start." But she wasn't smiling. Jin touched him gently on the face, coaxing him to finally look her in the eye. "You didn't answer my question."

"If I could, I would." Agni, her eyes looked so dark. They were like deep hollows in her face. He didn't like looking into them. There was no question in his mind about that. He'd stay with her forever if he could. If he wasn't _needed_, somewhere else. "But you already knew that. And that's not what you're really asking." He saw right through her, of course. Jin wanted him to promise, to vow that he would stay in the city. She wanted to bind him here. He wasn't a fool. "I wouldn't abandon you Jin. Wherever I go, you're always welcome at my side. I _want_ you at my side."

"Wherever?" She challenged him. It was impossible. "Anywhere?" She pressed on, wanting him to open his damn mouth. "Even on the throne?" Zuko stared at her wordlessly, caught off-guard. "We both know that's what you really mean."

"I-I don't..." Zuko broke his painful gaze. His mouth was dry.

"If you win the War, and you become the Fire Lord, and regain everything you lost..." Jin sounded achingly close to tears. "Will you still need me?"

"What? Of course!" He was taken up in a sudden frenzy, taking her face, making sure she looked him in the eye. "Jin, I _promise_ you, that I'll never let you go. Not for anyone or anything. What makes you think I care about the riches and the power of the Fire Lord if it meant losing you? I swear, if I could go back, I would not change a _single_ thing about us. I'd rather be a beggar with you than the most powerful person in the world, alone." Jin's eyes were shining. She blinked, a single tear trickling down a sun-bronzed cheek. He engulfed her in a bone crushing hug, guilt swelling in his chest. He recounted everything he had done, everything he had said, to make her feel insecure. The little comments and remarks, the hints and thoughtless murmurs. _You idiot._ For all his words, a deep, dark part of himself still wanted the throne. She knew it plainly. "Jin, you mean so much more to me than a stupid throne." Jin buried her nose in his neck wordlessly, trying so hard not to cry as everything she had wrestled with slowly floated to the surface, her paranoia and insecurities and crippling fear that he would have to let her go. "I love you so much."

"I love you too." Her voice was muffled, by clothing or tears, he couldn't tell. She lifted her head to address him, her wet eyes catching the moonlight. "B-but... What if... What if you _do_ win..." She drew in a deep, shuddering breath. "The Fire Lord _can't_ marry a peasant." Jin spoke frankly and plainly, her stomach clenching. Zuko watched her silently, feeling his own heart twist painfully at her words. He'd refused to think about it.

"They..." Zuko tried to come up with the words to console her. He tried to lie, tried to say that he could marry whoever he damn well pleased and the people would have to deal with it, but his lips just couldn't form the words. She was right. It would be political suicide. It would push the fragile country into civil war. He would lose the throne. Even as a concubine or mistress, she would incite a rebellion. They wouldn't want any part of her in his home country. It didn't matter if _he_ loved her. There was no justification for keeping a foreign peasant in the Imperial Palace.

"I'll never let you go." He repeated himself, holding her tightly. "I swear it, by the stars watching us, I will never, ever let you go Jin." His own eyes stung. She lowered her head, burying herself in the collar of his shirt, grabbing tight handfuls of his clothing. Zuko arched his neck backwards, looking up at the night sky, the stars that were supposedly the spirits of his ancestors. _I promise._ He mouthed silently, up at the shifting mass of planets and galaxies. If he had to _choose_ between them, he would choose her. In a heartbeat.

"Look at me." Jin sniffed as she was pulled away. "I don't want to leave you." His voice trembled, fingers digging in as he clung to her. "Not ever." He lay her down on the cold tiles, hands on her face as he looked at her in the moonlight. The light was back in her eyes. He didn't know if it was the moon or the stars or just _her_, but it lit up her face. He didn't have to look into those terrible black pits. Their noses touched. "Say something, please."

"I don't know what to say." She said truthfully. She was overwhelmed. Jin refused to believe that Zuko would truly, really, forsake his birthright and his kingdom for her. Not until she saw it for herself, would she trust his promise. Everything he had said and done pointed in the other direction. But her heart was swelling at the thought, consuming her. It wasn't just his grand promise that overcame her. It was the admission, that came with the simple truth that he loved her more than anything else. That he was truly happy with her, and her only. That he wouldn't leave her – _not willingly_.

"Are you happy?" Zuko whispered against her lips in the deep night. The city looked abandoned, desolate, without the thousands of lanterns to illuminate the streets and houses. Jin managed a thin, shaking smile as she nodded. Zuko buried his nose deep into the crook of her neck.

"Of course I am." Why was Zuko shaking? Was he cold? Jin rested her hand on the back of his head, stroking the hair gently. He was curled up into her like a child, embracing her so tightly, she struggled to breathe. His breath warmed her collarbone, but his skin, where she touched it, was cold. Jin held him patiently on the slanted roof, looking up at the stars. There seemed to be more of them in the night sky, without the lanterns below to distract her from them. Zuko's eyes were half-lidded, and they flickered occasionally, the feather-light touch of his eyelashes tickling the juncture of Jin's neck. Was he falling asleep? It was possible. She knew he didn't sleep much, he tossed and turned at night, and Jiro told her that he sometimes got bad nightmares, he whimpered and moaned in a restless sleep. But then again, Jin wasn't much better. She spent far too long looking up at the ceiling with open eyes, as horror after horror played out in her mind. She knew it was ridiculous – Zuko would always protect her and her family, and she had nothing to fear – but she was still seized by terror as she thought about what could happen if the Fire Nation came knocking on her door. What if they came for her when Zuko was away? It was a stupid thought, of course, what would they want with her? But it still left Jin in inward fits of terror. She knew that if it was her versus them, she would lose. She'd lost all faith in herself after her encounter with Azula.

_Wait._

Jin's eyes had been drooping as she'd drifted off in thought, but they snapped open now, and she jerked up, the sudden move startling Zuko out of his own sleepy torpor. _I just heard screaming. _He pulled away from her with a gasp, rubbing at his eyes.

"What's wrong?" His heart raced at the sudden disruption, vision dull and blurry as he struggled to regain his vision.

"I heard something." Jin slid out from underneath Zuko, and stood up slowly, wavering a little on the unsteady tiles. He looked up at the girl, his brow creasing in confusion. She let out an odd groan, hand over her mouth. Her right arm was extended, pointing outwards. Zuko's eyes followed her gesture, and he stood up rather clumsily, still sleepy and ragged from his half-sleep. "Oh Spirits." Jin breathed, instinctively grasping Zuko's arm.

_Fire._

It was a considerable distance away, and looked small, but they could both see flames shooting out the top floor window of a narrow, dilapidated house that thrust out above its' neighbours, a jagged, broken tooth in the mouth of the street. It was too far away for either of them to see anything, but they could both hear the screams. They rose slowly, lifting in the night air, growing in force and volume.

"I-It could just be a house fire." Zuko's mouth was dry as he rasped out the unconvincing words. Jin shook her head beside him.

"It's not just a house fire. Someone's set that alight." Her hold on him tightened. "Zuko..."

"Let's go." He led her across the roof without hesitation, still feeling sluggish and clumsy. Jin allowed herself to be gently tugged along without protest, and when Zuko let her go to scale down the side of the terraced street, she complied without protest. They couldn't see any fire from the street, but the black smoke rose in the night sky, hiding the stars. The streets were abandoned, but several men and women dared to crack the shutters open, and cautiously poke their heads out to catch a glimpse. There was no sign of Fire Nation soldiers. Jin's anxiety grew, the closer Zuko led her to the fire. She'd just thought about how she couldn't do anything to defend herself, she was too scared and inexperienced to defend herself against a hardened soldier, and how Zuko was bringing her into the heart of it. The nervousness rose in her, a bile, churning her stomach and leaving a sour taste in her mouth. The smell of smoke began to invade her nostrils, the shouts and cries rising, taking form. There was an orange glow between the buildings. Zuko grew tenser as he approached, nerves starting to sharpen. He was awake now, alert. He drew in a long, deep breath, the air tinged with smoke. It was like a drug to him. He'd always loved the smell of smoke. People began to cluster in their doorways, peeking nervously into the street, huddling in alleyways in groups. Several ran desperately in the other direction, screaming. One of them hit Jin in the shoulder, and she wavered on her feet, knocked off balance, but managed to keep pace with Zuko, who was determined to find the source of the fire. He knew it was more, much more than a kitchen catching fire. But neither of them was prepared for what they stepped into.

A riot.

The street swelled with people, the sound of shouts and screams, flailing fists. There were at least and well over six hundred civilians and half as many soldiers. Zuko tried to take in the scene, tried to figure out if the soldiers were trying to herd the townspeople anywhere or if they themselves were being beaten back, but it was complete chaos. One thing he did see, with a painful clench of the stomach, was that the fire had spread. The narrow, broken house had collapsed completely, and the neighbouring house, large, ugly building with a slanted roof, made entirely of wood, was quickly going up in flames. Zuko turned back to Jin.

"Go back." Her face was a flash of orange, mouth open and eyes wide. "It's not safe, go home and-"

"I'm not going anywhere." His hand was locked in an iron grip. Zuko looked at her again, a smudge of fire-yellow against the writhing shadows. Her chin was thrust out, mouth set in a hard, resolute line. Something rose within her, against the fear, fighting it directly. Jin saw the chaos before her, the violence and fire and inhuman screaming, and something in her chest had caught alight. She saw youths being beaten back, young boys and girls pushed to the ground and trampled underfoot, women screaming and scrabbling at armoured limbs as their half-conscious sons and husbands were dragged away. Jin clenched her fists, felt the earth beneath her feet, as the shock and outrage consumed her. _How can they do this to us?_ Zuko looked into her eyes. She looked past him, beyond him into the anarchy on the street. There was no turning back for her. Zuko knew he couldn't convince her to retreat to safety, not with the violence laid out at their feet. Her grip was eye-watering. Zuko jerked his head back towards the fire, throat choking in horror as a terrible thought struck him.

_What if someone is trapped?_

He plunged head on into the pandemonium, holding one arm up before himself like a shield, the other clenched helplessly in Jin's grasp. The smoke thickened, the air was filled with screaming, he stepped on several limbs, someone grasped at his leg. He kicked them away, pushing himself relentlessly through the writhing crowd. Zuko received a hard knock on the shoulder, from what must have been a hammer or an iron bar. He didn't know if it was soldier or civilian, but it _hurt._ His cry of pain joined the thousands of others in the smoke-thickened night air, and he staggered forward as Jin's unbreakable iron grip was torn apart, she was wrenched away from him with a scream. He turned back, tried desperately to find her in the frenzied mob of fighting bodies, but she was indistinguishable from the crowd. Zuko clutched his shoulder, panic seizing in his throat as he stared around him. He knew he wouldn't be able to find her in the heart of the riot. An almighty crash sounded to his left, the rising shout of voices turning his head as the fire swelled. The roof of the burning house had fallen in. The heat rolled over the crowd in a long, slow wave. Clutching his injured shoulder, Zuko kicked and elbowed his way through the press of bodies around him, keeping his head bowed, hair falling over his scar.

The soldiers formed a line in front of the burning house, armed to the teeth, most holding fire in outstretched palms. Threatening them. Zuko was pushed forward , out of the crowd and into the blistering heat. He stumbled forward, almost fell, inches from the soldiers. Zuko took several steps back, biting his lip in pain. He was almost certain his shoulder was broken. There was no one to counteract the fire, no line of buckets or a water pump. They were going to let it burn out. So what if it consumed the entire street? Why would they care? Let it be a message to the people, a smouldering warning of what could happen.

"_Let me go!"_ Zuko jerked sideways at the screaming. Someone had tried to break through the line of soldiers, into the house. He had been held back by the crowd, but at the collapse of the roof, burst free with an animal strength, charging towards the front door of the burning house. Zuko caught a glimpse of a short mop of black hair in a wide topknot, the thin beginnings of a beard along a square jaw. It took four soldiers to knock the young man to his knees, and cuff his arms behind his back. Zuko stared the whole time, reading his face. He'd seen him before. _Where?_ The man was subdued with a blow to the head, knocked half-conscious to the ground. But he still screamed, his voice hoarse and broken. Zuko looked from the house and back to the man, struggling to place this strangers' face among the thousands and thousands he had seen over the past few months.

_Wait._ He remembered now. The hot, dusty trail. The stolen ostrich-horse. Being painfully hungry, wanting something, anything to eat. A solitary-looking wanderer. The smell of food. Turning back and wielding his sword only to find his lonely traveller with his hands on the swollen stomach of his _pregnant wife._

_No!_

His stomach was clenched in a vice. Zuko stared at the burning building, horror rising at the thought of the young woman and her infant child trapped in the blaze. Zuko didn't think. He couldn't breathe. He charged his way through the line, broke his way through with a punch to the throat and a sharp sweep of the leg. The front door was still open, flames pouring out. Zuko ran through them, unafraid. He'd lost his ability to create fire, but he could still manipulate it. If the woman was still alive, he would be able to save her.

The fire had taken hold of the building quickly, and it groaned on charred foundations. The roof had already gone, and he only had a few minutes before the house would give way entirely. Zuko was in a long hallway. It looked like the building had been split up into several tiny apartments, and he didn't have time to check them all. He didn't need to. If they couldn't get out in time, they must have been far from the entrance. He ran to the back, finding the stairs. He could barely see through the smoke, and relied on heat to gauge the flames. The banister was on fire and the floorboards smouldered, but the stairs themselves were still intact, groaning under his weight.

"Hello?" Zuko shouted at the top of his lungs into the fire as he reached the second floor. After a seconds' thought, he ran towards the furthest door, kicking it down. The fire hadn't yet eaten through the thin walls, and he squinted in the gloom, the light indistinct and fuzzy after the blinding glow of the fire. A baby was crying weakly in the darkness. Zuko's heart leaped. "Anyone in here? Hello?"

"Tahn?" There was a thin voice, coming from the next room. Zuko tore open the sliding door, throat closing in horror at the sight before him. The ceiling had collapsed, a heavy beam pinning a young woman to the floor. She'd been bleeding; her dressed was splattered with black in the dim light. He stood beside the woman, running his hands over the beam. She gave a soft, disconsolate whimper. Her face was bone-white and she couldn't stop trembling. "Y-You're not..."

"I'm Lee." Zuko bent down over her. "Listen to me, I'm going to lift this off you, then I need you to move out of the way, okay?" His voice was low and urgent. He didn't know if he'd heard her for a moment, but she nodded, her eyes half-lidded. He grasped the beam, and pulled with his good arm. It was a solid pole of wood, and extremely cumbersome, but it gave under his weight. The light was bad, but Zuko could still see the nails sticking out of the wood. They were at thick, and least four inches long. He winced at the side, turning his face away from it. No wonder she bled. The woman managed to drag herself out of the way, moaning in pain as she collapsed on the floorboards, lax. Zuko let the beam fall with a heavy thud, sinking to his knees beside her. He was painfully aware that he had a few mere minutes to save her. He could live through a collapse – he'd survived much worse – but he couldn't protect her from the fire and choking smoke. "Come on." He took her hand, draping her arm across his shoulders. "I've got you." He lifted her with a wince, his shoulder on fire.

"No..." She was struggling weakly against him, sobbing. "Hope... Hope..." Zuko stilled in the doorway, looking down at her. She was pointing past him, into the darkness. "_Please." _ The sound of the crying infant met their ears, Zuko's insides curling with shame. In the moment, he'd forgotten about the baby. He approached the bassinet in the corner of the room, crouching down so she could take her child in her arms. Zuko staggered a little as he straightened, the pain in his shoulder increasing with the added weight.

"Is there any other way out?" Zuko began to walk, slowly. Her breathing was shallow and ragged against his throat. He knew the front door would be useless, engulfed in flames. The moment he walked out, he'd be arrested for what he did to get past the soldiers. They stepped into the hallway, the woman gasping, her face lit up from the orange glow of the burgeoning flames. "Is there a back door?" She nodded against him, her neck lolling, slack. Her eyes drifted closed, desperate hold on the infant loosening. Zuko shook her a little, struggling to keep her awake. If she fell unconscious, she was doomed. "Hey. Wake up. Please." Zuko was at the stairs. "What's your name?" He tried to get her talking. Maybe that would keep her awake.

"Ying." She mumbled against him, holding her crying baby with a dogged determination.

"Ying." Zuko repeated, taking his first step on the groaning stairs. "Ying, do you remember my name?"

"Lee..." She groaned. Zuko nodded as he took another step. And another. His injured arm trembled under the strain, and he fought back physical tears at the pain. The flames were so close to them. Ying shrank away, in Zuko's arms, clinging to Hope. He knew they were both slowly suffocating in the smoke, and tried to move faster down the stairs.

It was an awful mistake.

Something went wrong, he heard a horrible crack, he didn't know if it was wood or bone, his footing was lost, and with a wrench and a scream and a blinding flash of pain, everything fell to blackness.

* * *

**ZOMG the drama.  
**

**I hope you enjoyed the heavy jinko. I've been a bit light on it recently. There are other stories that need to be told. I guess you could see this as a sort of 'catch-up'**


	32. Chapter 32

Sorry this took so long. What's my excuse? Work? Uni? I wish. Breaking Bad started up again and that unfortunately took over my brain for two months. SO GOOD.

But it's (almost) over now, so things will go back to normal in my head. With luck.

* * *

"No!" Jin screamed as her tight grasp on Zuko's hand was wrenched away. She tried to follow him, fight her way through the crowd, but the press of bodies made it impossible. She couldn't move. She couldn't _breathe._ Someone swung an iron bar through the air and she ducked to avoid it. As she bowed, the crowd gave another huge sway, the momentum knocking her from her feet and onto the ground.

Her breath died in her throat, heart racing in panic. Someone trod on her injured hand and she yelped in agony, struggling to get on to her knees. She was kicked in the small of the back, by the steel-capped boot of a soldier. Jin howled, flung face-down on the ground, pain crackling up her spine. Who would kick a girl when they were already down? She knew she had to get back on her feet soon, before she was trampled underfoot and crushed. But she couldn't bend. Earth-bending towards or even around a Fire Nation soldier carried a death penalty. No one had been brave enough to try it yet. But Jin had the cold feeling that it would change after tonight. _What brought this on? _ Finally getting on to her knees, Jin reached blindly for the nearest arm to pull herself up. She wavered on her feet for a moment, unsteady. Someone crashed into her and she almost fell, but this time, she pushed back. She wasn't going to go down again. Someone screamed near her, right in her ear. Jin screwed her eyes shut, trying to block out the sights and sounds and smells. Her back and hand hurt, and she felt sick from the smoky air. _Control yourself_. She berated herself internally. _Get out of there! What's wrong with you?_ Jin tried to crane her head above the crowd, getting her bearings. Where was she? She'd lost all sense of direction. Zuko was long gone. The crowd swelled again, backwards, away from the fire. They were being pushed and beaten back. She felt a sharp jerk beside her as someone fell, trying desperately to catch her sleeve and save themselves. She managed to close her fingers around a thin, bony wrist, and heaved. She looped her arm around a skinny waist, trying to keep her injured hand free as she tugged the figure back to their feet. Jin caught a flash of white and red – the thin, terrified face of a boy no older than thirteen, the left side caked with blood. Her stomach turned, but she didn't let go. The boy struggled to stay on his feet.

"Stay with me." She commanded, shouting in his ear. Did he even hear her? The screaming and crying of the crowd was almost deafening, and always, in the back, was the deep roar of the fire. There was another jolt, as they were pushed back again. They were being herded. Her good arm around the boy's waist, she struggled her way through the crowd, consistently swaying and heaving. The soldiers were gone from the thick of the mob. She was sure the crowd was getting tighter. _What's happening?_ Jin forced her way through the crowd, kicking and struggling for every inch of ground. The crowd grew even tighter, the boy was forced off his feet, and Jin had to essentially carry him through the thick, squashed crowd. She was able to see the street. She kicked out and elbowed her way through, and finally, sucked in a deep lungful of air as her knees hit the ground. The boy sank down beside her, coughing violently, his bony frame wracked with spasms. It was eerily silent. Jin finally looked up from the ground, terror rising in her chest as she realised why the crowd grew so silent, so tightly-packed.

Reinforcements.

They formed three heavy rows, standing shoulder to shoulder. There were ten feet between the mob and the soldiers. Jin stood up quickly, hauling the boy to his feet as she stepped backwards, trying to melt back into the crowd. But they were too tight, she couldn't get back in. Nobody wanted to be in the front.

"Drop your weapons!" One of the soldiers stepped forward. These men all carried large round shields, and long, heavy-looking clubs, perfect for cracking riotous civilians over the head and bringing them down. _They'ere going to break us apart._ "Down on your knees with your hands on your head!"

"Never!" Someone shouted in retaliation. The bloodied boy clung to Jin's hand, hiding behind her. She could hear him whispering and sobbing into the back of her neck. She tried to whisper that it was be all right, but her voice was lost in the night. "We'll never kneel to you!" The crowd heaved forward in a shout, Jin stumbling forward, almost falling.

"How did this happen?" She shouted in the ear of the man next to her. He sported a black eye and dried blood on his collar. He'd clearly been here for a while. "What started this?"

"They're pulling down houses to build more of their damn metal buildings." He growled in her direction. "They tried to clear out a shop and the customers refused to budge. One thing led to another." He spat blood on the cobblestones. "Scum." Jin looked back at the soldiers, heart hammering madly. The fear was winning again. She couldn't tear her eyes away from those horrible clubs and shields. No doubt they were planning on some sort of backlash. They would probably use it as justification for even harsher laws.

"We should just listen to them." Jin's voice rose in terror, growing higher and pitch. "We can't beat them when they're armed, we can't _win-_"

"Oh, it 'aint about winning." He cricked his neck. He held a long machete in his hands. Contraband. Behind her, the boy moaned, fingers digging into her palm. Jin realised she couldn't leave the crowd. She couldn't leave _him. _How could she walk away, let them be beaten and arrested and killed? _But what can I do to save them? _How was it her responsibility? Most of them were probably older than her. At least three quarters were male. They were all stronger, no doubt. What did she have that was special?

_You know the answer to that._ Her stomach lurched. Jin looked along the row, biting her lip. It was quite likely she was the only one in the riot who could bend. All the elder people she knew talked about how there weren't as many as there used to be, it was getting segregated, bred into the upper classes. Almost every bender in Ba Sing Se was conscripted into the army. As the numbers grew thinner and the situation more desperate they even talked about making allowances for females, in the past year. It was why Jin and her family kept quiet. Having three children with the gift was a rare blessing. Her father thought it was a curse. She looked back at the crowd, feeling sick with anxiety. Surely they wouldn't execute a sixteen-year-old girl. The twinge of pain in the small of her back suggested otherwise, however.

"This is your last warning!" The soldier's voice rang out, cold and clear in the night. Jin shivered. "Drop your weapons or we will be compelled to use force!"

"Come and get it!" The man beside Jin shouted back, his machete catching a orange glint of fire. _No what are you doing?_ Her eyes darted from side to side again, heart pounding violently in her mouth. _You're going to die!_

_Stop this!_ She wasn't shouting at them, this time. She shouted at herself. Did she say it aloud, or in her mind? Jin didn't know. She couldn't hear anything distinctly. The screaming and the shouts and the roaring fire became nothing but a rushing in her ears. She had seconds at the most. Her hands trembled as she kicked off her shoes, and she tried so hard to still them. It would only work if she had steady hands. She could only try it once. She pulled herself free from the crying boy behind her, taking two small steps forward. The eyes of the mob, of the soldiers, fell on her. They all froze. Jin blinked back tears, keeping her stance low and bare feet spread apart, rooting herself into the earth as she slowly spread her arms. Comprehension dawned on several faces. She heard one of the soldiers shout. Her arms were stretched outwards, shoulder blades pushed together, joints creaking at the strain. The commander took a step forward, pointing at _her. _Then, she lowered her arms quickly, shoulders and head bowed.

The earth cracked open.

It wasn't much of a chasm. Jin had no grand illusions about her skill. It was maybe six or seven feet deep, easy enough for a limber man to climb out of. It was wide enough to jump over. It didn't stretch entirely across the street, cutting the soldiers off completely from the riot. But it was enough. It engulfed the first row of soldiers, who tumbled down headfirst with an inelegant cry, left them scrabbling to get out, shouting and swearing, with cries to _get her._ The crowd rose into a loud, appreciative roar, dissolving into cackling laughter as they watched the soldier's clumsy attempts to pull themselves out of the chasm. Jin even let out a short, nervous chuckle, cut short by a rough jerk to her upper arm, pulling her back.

"You might want to get away." It was the man who stood beside her, cocking his head in the direction of the commander. He had managed to clumsily get up, and he was screaming in her direction. "Go." He pushed her backwards, into the crowd. She couldn't stop the warring; they were all too far gone. They were intoxicated with the spirit of rebellion. All she could do, all she could have done, was try and delay the fight, give the edge to the rioting civilians. Jin was ready to fight her way back in, but this time, the mob opened up for her, someone pulled her in, shouting in her ear to go this way. As she started to run, the crowd surged forward, in one final push, bearing down on the soldiers who were still trying to right themselves. Jin pushed herself through, barefoot, ducking and dodging. Her hand still hurt. She was about twenty feet through the crowd, when she realised that she'd left the boy behind. It was like receiving a heavy blow. Jin stood in the middle of the turmoil, still and silent as the horror grew in the pit of her stomach. He was in the front row. If he didn't run away himself, he would have been beaten down and trampled underfoot. Jin turned back, took several steps before her feet stilled. She couldn't go back. They knew her face. They would be after the barefoot girl with brown hair who tried to make a joke of them. Who broke one of their most important decrees. Tears streamed down her face, sobs threatening to break through her tightly pursed lips.

She'd done the wrong thing.

_Please be okay._ Jin realised, with another blow, that she didn't even know his _name._ She couldn't remember what his face really looked like. Just that it had blood on it and his arms were so thin and when she held him around the middle, she could feel his ribs. He was nameless, faceless to her. The thought didn't reassure her. It made her cry harder. She fought through the crowd blindly, kicking and screaming and throwing the odd punch. She was suffocating. She had to get _out_. Someone tried to grab at her. Her hair ribbon came away in their fingers. Jin couldn't breathe in the smoky, stale air. She couldn't hide her sobs anymore; they tore violently from her throat. After what seemed like an eternity of struggling, of a slow, painful suffocation, she managed to break through into the night, swallowing lungfuls of cold air, stretching her arms out before her unimpeded. She still ran, wanting to get as far away as she could from the smoke and screaming. Her vision blurred with tears, and she didn't know where she was anymore. Finally, when the stitch in her side and burning in her lungs was too much to bear, when she couldn't breathe anymore and her feet ached, Jin stopped. She reached out blindly, finding the wall, and leaned against it, slowly sinking down to the ground.

She didn't feel like a hero.

She felt like a murderer.

She couldn't even save the life of one child. She'd forgotten about him, in her own selfish, blind panic. She was too concerned with protecting herself, getting out unscathed, that she left behind an injured, defenceless child. What had she really offered? A semi-impressive display of bending that managed to slow the soldiers down for a few seconds. She didn't fight them off. A real hero, _Zuko,_ would have stayed, would have fought to the end, while there was still a chance. Jin's head sank into her hands, dirty fingers covering her eyes. She could still smell the smoke, in the air or on her clothes, she didn't know. All she could see was the bloodied, thin little face, staring at her, desperate and pleading. Jin shook her head violently, trying to banish the image from her mind.

But it wouldn't move. She dug her fingers in and screamed, but nothing could shake the childlike brown eyes that bore down into her soul.

* * *

"Wake up... Wake up... _Spirits please wake up._"

There was water on his face.

It dripped on his good cheek, three soft little patters, as light as rain, rolling down his face and trickling along the juncture of his neck. His face was turned, the exposed cheek flushed in the heat. His eyes were closed, but it wasn't a blackness he saw. It was a bright, burning red, glaring behind his sealed lids. Zuko's throat rattled in a groan.

"Come on..." Someone shook his shoulder. His injured shoulder. Zuko let out a short, choked cry, jerking under the trembling hand, eyes snapped open. The orange glow burst to life. The smoke stung his eyes. Zuko buried his face into the ground and gritted his teeth, whimpering against the pain. He felt so _weak,_ curled into the ground with what he knew was a broken limb, while the fire burned just a few feet from his face. "_Please."_

Zuko leaned heavily on his good arm, forcing himself to sit up. He lifted his head, catching a glimpse of the wide-eyed, crying young woman as she clung to the bundle of cloth. Zuko bowed his head in a long, low groan, clinging to his shoulder. Ying bent down, her face very close to his. She fought back sobs.

"_Please_, we have to go now..." She was too terrified to speak any more. Zuko arched his neck, looking up at her. He nodded, silently, getting on to his knees.

"I can't carry you." He looked at the fire. Whatever precious time Zuko had gleaned, it had slipped though his fingers. "You'll have to crawl." She gave a single, choked sob, breaking into a hiccup. Ying nodded, a shaking hand cradling the back of Hope's head. How long had he been out? Surely she wouldn't let him remain unconscious for more than a few seconds. If she was smart, she would have taken her baby and fled. Most wouldn't think twice about leaving him to die. Zuko crawled onto his hand and knees, leaning heavily on the wall as he rose to his feet. "Stay with me." Zuko made his way gingerly down the last few stairs, the wooden planks sagging under his weight. The staircase was unstable at the best of times, and the support beams were no doubt charred and smouldering. They were lucky the wood was able to hold their weight. Every nerve, every fibre of Zuko's body was on edge. He tried to stay in tune with the fire, tried to feel it within him. Anything that would give him more control.

Ying was coughing violently. Zuko tried to tell her to keep down, to suck in the previous few inches of air between the smoky haze and the floor, but she couldn't hear him through the crackling flames. He walked in front of her, kicking aside flaming pieces of furniture, forcing the fire down to smouldering embers before him. Even though his own internal fire was blocked, Zuko had a keen understanding of the flames around him. They bowed to his hand. He was unafraid. Zuko whirled around, arching his neck to examine the sagging ceiling. The support beams were as brittle as matchsticks, charred nearly through entirely. He looked back at the stairs. They'd barely walked a few feet. It wasn't fast enough.

"Get up." He bent down, taking Ying by the elbow. His heart started pounding again, in urgency and a strong undercurrent of fear. She looked up at him, pale and soot-stained. "The ceiling is going to cave in any moment. We have to run."

"I-I can't..." Ying shook her head, hair falling in her eyes.

"Yes, you can." He crouched on the floorboards, so keenly aware of the fire and heat around them. How could she argue in the middle of this? Her hands were blistered from touching something hot. How could she not feel the burning skin on her fingers? "I can't carry you Ying, my arm is broken. If you don't run, the roof will fall and you will _die _in here. You understand me?" Fresh tears started leaking out of her eyes, her lips formed a tiny 'o', twisting into wordless shapes as she resisted the overwhelming impulse to break down entirely. Hope gave a soft cry, pressed into her mothers' chest. Something snapped in Ying at the sound. The silent, incoherent gaping closed into a firm, straight line. She pushed her hair back, hoisting the infant, cradling it against her with one arm. With the other, she grasped Zuko's wrist, allowing herself to be hauled to her feet. She gasped, staggering and heavily leaning against him as her stomach flared up in pain. Zuko gulped at the black stain on her dress. He had seen enough blood and gore before, and it wasn't often a wound turned his stomach. But to see it on a civilian, a woman, a _mother_, struggling to hold her baby, left him sick. There was no answer the soldiers could give that would justify this depravity.

"Come on." He turned away, keeping his hold on her, as he picked up the pace. Ying lurched along behind, panting weakly, struggling to breathe in the smoky air. Hope was silent, her tiny limbs lax. Her complicit silence heightened Ying's fear, the young mother terrified that Hope was slowly dying, suffocated in the smoke. She didn't seem to notice that the fire didn't touch them, that it was all dying embers and tiny flames the size of candlefire around their feet. Zuko hoped that she didn't notice. Ying coughed violently, doubling over, and Zuko wound his good arm around her, pulling her in. She clung to him, trembling, her blistered skin plastered with sweat and soot and tears. How could be so calm? How could he keep himself so straight-backed and impassive in the fire? Wasn't he _afraid?_ She couldn't breathe, she struggled to move her legs fast enough to keep up with him. He was pulling her, dragging her along while she staggered weakly, shouting in her ear that it wasn't far, she didn't have long to go, she just had to hold on for a few moments more. Finally, Zuko reached the back of the house. The door was locked, flames heaving around them, reaching a crescendo. Two floors above them, he heard long, shuddering crash. The roof had collapsed entirely. _No._ He let Ying go, to throw his weight against the locked door, feeling the softened metal break under the heat and pressure. He staggered forward into the night, a momentary breath of air on his face, another terrific crash resounding through the burning house. Ying was on her hands and knees in the doorway, struggling to crawl with one arm. The flames heaved. Zuko screamed, his voice swallowed up in the roaring fire, and threw himself on top of the woman, as the charred, vestigial remains of broken foundations crumbled entirely, the weight of two floors and a ceiling crashing down to the ground. Zuko held on to her, screaming in her ear to stay low and keep small and still, summoning every ounce of will, of strength, to keep the heat and the fire at bay. This wasn't as direct, as explosive, as the attack that had destroyed his ship, but he didn't have his own fire to protect himself this time. He couldn't curl himself up. The fire rose in one final gasp of air, smoke and flames billowing from the broken windows, the naked roof, the open door where Zuko crouched. He could smell burning hair. He didn't even know if he was doing anything to hold the fire back anymore. He couldn't feel or hear anything, just an enormous rush, cascading through his limbs, breaking apart in his mind. What if he was burning? How long had this lasted? Seconds? Minutes?

Ying closed her eyes, screaming, holding Hope close to her, wondering if there was any way she could end it quickly for the child, before they started burning. But they _weren't_ burning. She pressed her forehead into the ground, where the stone floor crossed over to the outside world, struggling to breathe. How was she still alive? Was the doorway protecting her? Had something fallen against it, somehow bracing them against the worst of it? Ying tried to see through the eye-watering smoke, but couldn't make anything out, just a dull orange glow in the midst of the grey. Then, he rolled her onto her back, touching her face, seeing if she was still alive. Ying couldn't speak. How could this happen? How could they both be so removed from the fire that had entirely devastated everything around them? How had it not destroyed all three of them? What had the boy done? How did he manage to fight back the flames?

"Come on." He scooped her up with one arm, and she leaned against him. They half-walked, half-staggered, both exhausted and in pain. Zuko carried her as far as he could, outside, along the back alley, before slumping down, leaning her against a cool brick wall. Ying sucked in repeated gasps of sweet night air, lungs burning as she struggled to breathe through her sobs. "Calm down. You're all right." Zuko wiped at her face with his sleeve, aching for her. Thank Agni she was alive. He didn't know what he would have done if she had died. He would have completely lost his mind. She herself had retreated inward in her terror, absorbed in the shock and horror of what almost killed her. "It's okay." He said again, crouching down in front of her, taking her shoulders. She was starting to hyperventilate, trembling flingers tightening around the rustling figure of her infant daughter. "Look at me." He was so close to her. Ying opened her eyes once more, his face light up brilliantly in the distant glow. She was able to truly see him for the first time, really _look_ at him properly without the smoke and fire obscuring her vision, burning her eyes. She caught his scar, still plainly visible through the dust and soot, an impression of the deathly white skin beneath, and his _eyes. _They were the same colour as the fire. It was a face she had seen before. Ying's throat closed in horror, and realisation, as the pieces fell together, and she slowly recognized the face so close to her, the face she had seen on paper, dozens, _hundreds_ of times before. Something must have shown in her own face, something that suggested awful realisation, because he looked away, eyes lowering. "You know who I am." Ying nodded silently. He caught the movement in the corner of his eye.

"P-P-Pri-" She couldn't speak. Zuko pressed a finger in her lips, locking his gaze with her again as she fell silent. He shook his head, desperately, begging her to keep the name locked behind her lips. Zuko looked her up and down, giving the woman a last once-over. She was stricken and had a burn on her arm but she lived. The baby in her arms was making soft, murmuring sounds. They lived through the fire. Because of him. Nobody else in the city could have done anything to save them. Not of their own volition. Zuko retreated, standing up slowly, backing away. Ying got up on her knees, realising that he was going to leave her.

"I won't tell." Her voice cracked, it was plaintive and tiny, Zuko was already walking backwards, away from the riot and the fire and into the darkness that stretched out before him in the narrow alley. But he heard her. "P-Please-" Ying pitched forward, struggling to stand. She could hear footsteps, coming from the other direction. People had seen her, they rushed over from the dying remains of the burned house. Someone took her baby away, and she let them, her limbs heavy and dead. Someone else draped a blanket over her shoulders, murmuring something in her ear, soothing, garbled words that were completely alien to her. Someone else again, lifted her up from the ground. Ying stretched out her arm towards the darkness, where he had vanished, eyes filling with fresh tears. Someone thought she was asking for water, and they pressed a water skin to her slack lips. It spilled over her chin, and she pushed it away, trembling. Did no one else see him? She stared beyond them all, into the darkness, where she saw him run away, swallowed up in the night.

But she couldn't see anything, not even a shadow of the figure who had saved her life, the face she had seen before on wanted posters that stretched beyond the sands of the desert, to the province of her destroyed hometown, who left because he knew that being caught would seal his death. A single instance of heroism, no matter how dramatic, wouldn't begin to clear his name. She struggled on the edge of consciousness, one single thread keeping her eyes open as she tried to comprehend what had happened, her rescue at the hands of a hated enemy, the very heir of the race which had destroyed almost everything she'd held dear to her. It hurt her head to think about it. She couldn't understand. Her eyes slowly drifted closed, weighed down with lifeless exhaustion. Now the heart-stopping terror was over, her life was preserved, Ying felt hollow, thin and fragile as glass. Her home was gone. She didn't know where her husband was. If he was alive. She didn't know if people were still rioting. But she didn't care about any of it. As selfish as it was of her, Ying couldn't spare a thought towards any of it. The thread was starting to unravel. The garbled words in her ear grew thicker, indistinct. She let herself succumb to the sweet darkness, murmuring Zuko's name, silently, on her lips.

* * *

"Where are we going?"

Mai's heart pounded as she walked carefully through the darkness, the single lantern from her hand throwing ominous, angular shadows around the low-ceilinged passageway. Jet's hand was clenched tightly around her fingers. He walked so close to her. She could hear his breath, in and out, in that awful, broken breathing of his. He asked the question again, his voice low. She turned her head to look at him, his face half-lit by the lantern, eyes wide beneath his shock of brown hair. Mai looked away, down the hall.

"Outside." She finally spoke up after a few minutes of silence. "We're going outside." It was stupidly risky of her. If she were caught, she would have to explain herself to the commander of the ship. And Azula. She would have to justify herself to _her._ She might not see it the way Mai did. She might think the girl was planning some sort of escape.

_Don't be ridiculous. She trusts you completely._

"Why?" He was looking at her again. Mai turned her gaze to meet him. He looked so curious, so confused. She shifted the lantern in her hand, guiding him around a corner.

"Because you need some air." Maybe it would jog something, deep down in the hidden recesses of his memory. Mai wasn't hopeful. But it was worth a chance. At least she could tell Azula she had exhausted every possible opportunity before she told her that the rebel she'd captured had no surviving memory of his own crimes.

Besides, she hated the thought of him being locked away in that cell. It was a dark, stuffy coffin. She couldn't stand being there for more than a few minutes. She'd always feel claustrophobic. It was the high ceilings and chambers she'd grown up in, the sense of space, being in the middle of a crowd, locked away internally, looking around at the world around her, that made it feel cold and unnatural. Even though she was introverted and restrained, Mai didn't like being in small, enclosed spaces. When other people were around, she had something to watch, to listen, to think about. When she was alone, Mai had only the voices in her head to comfort her. When she had to be alone, she tried entertaining herself with books or small games, but everything eventually fell idle from her hands and she was left locked inside her head.

The wheel of the door turned under her hands, whispering softly in the dark. Jet was watching her anxiously, at her side. She wondered what he was expecting. Hopefully it wouldn't be too cold for him, in those ragged grey clothes that barely covered his skinny limbs. Contrition stabbed at her heart. How could she not think to consider it? She was warm, in long clothes underneath a heavy robe, and he already shivered in the stale air. But something in her mind told her that it wouldn't matter. Not all that much.

Jet's breath seized in his throat as he stepped outside into the ocean air. For the first time in his memory, he felt the wind on his face, through his hair. He breathed in deeply. The air was fresh, cold, with an edge that he couldn't identify. It was the salt spray. Mai had to push him gently across the deck, guiding him to the railing. His knuckles were white as he grasped the iron bar, leaning forward, breathing in deeply with closed eyes. His lungs _burned_ from the air. It was so completely unlike his cell. It was unbelievable. The wind was bitingly cold, but he didn't feel the goosebumps breaking out along his skin. Mai watched as he arched his neck backwards, face turned up to the sky. It was so _strange_ to her, to watch such a simple, childish enjoyment in plain fresh air. His chest groaned and cracked with every intake of breath, but Jet couldn't stop inhaling deep lungfuls of the night air. It was intoxicating. He felt dizzy. He pitched forward, looking for a moment as though he was about to fall.

"Watch out." Mai took him by the hand, gently guiding him back from over the railing. Jet's eyes snapped open, meeting hers in the grey half-light. Her hand tightened on his arm as she realised he was shivering. She shrugged out of her heavy outer robe, taking his other hand off the railing and gently draping the garment over his shoulders.

"I'm not cold." Jet protested quietly. But he accepted the offering, turning to her, staring at her with those penetrating eyes. Mai's loose hair fell across her face. As she reached to peel it away, Jet took her hand, wrapping his thin fingers around her palm. Her breath died in her throat. He pushed it out of her eyes himself, trying to tuck the loose strands behind her ear. His fingers brushed the juncture of her neck, the boy not breaking his gaze for a moment. Mai's lip quivered. She felt as though she was leaning too far over the railing, with the dark, turbulent waters below, ready to claim her. _What are you going stop this right now Mai don't you even dare-_

She closed her eyes as he kissed her. Perhaps, if she didn't see it, she could pretend that it was a surprise, that she didn't expect it to happen. The thrill that rose in her stomach, an electric shock that crackled down her spine. His fingers were crushing her hand. Mai grabbed the front of his clothes, intending to push him away. But something within her, something carnal and hot, pulled him _closer_. She could feel his hands, so chillingly cold, on her throat, the back of her neck, sliding _down_.

_No!_

Mai's chest heaved as she pulled away from him, arching her neck backwards, into the night, taking in ragged, broken gasps of air as she struggled to breathe. She stepped back, turning away from Jet, with her fingers over her lips. His hands slipped away, useless and lax. Her mind was whirling. She felt numb. He was watching her, silently, his own cold hands shaking as guilt and shame sent his heart racing and face red. He thought he'd read her, thought that her wide eyes and soft words, and her kindness, were some sort of expression of affection. He thought she was trying to get close to him. The seconds stretched between them, long, oppressing, and stiflingly dark.

"Mian, I-"

"You need to go back." She cut over him. She didn't want to hear his voice, his justification, for what he had done. Her own pallid cheeks were flushed. She took the lantern, holding it down, keeping her face in shadow. She didn't want him to look at her. She was terrified there was something in her face that would give something away. She was always proud of her mask, her perfectly-honed ability to assume an air of sardonic indifference, but this shook her, terribly. She couldn't trust her face to keep her secrets. She took him by the wrist, pulled him roughly. His frail, broken body followed obediently, Jet turning back, catching one last glimpse of the stars, the heaving ocean, stretching on and on, forever, before she pulled him inside and shut the door. The air was immediately warm, damp, and stifling. The lantern which just moments before was a tiny spark, a match-flame in the deep nothingness, lit the grey walls, turned them orange. They pressed in on Jet. He was being crushed. And still she pulled him on, her feet thudding on the metal ground, heavy and dull, his own stumbling, bare-foot tread echoing hers. She wouldn't look in his direction. She kept a pace ahead of him, looking more like a shadow to him, the deeper they descended into the ship. Mai walked faster, almost running down the hall. She was dragging Jet at this point, and he struggled to keep up as he started to gasp. His chest hurt, terribly. He tried to pant out a panicked plea for her to stop, but the noise couldn't pass his lips. She was terrified of running into any guards. There would be no way for her to disguise this. Azula would want to know what she was up to. Why she was taking these risks? She wouldn't be allowed to see him anymore. Something pulled at her, deep in her heart, at the thought. It made her sick. _She wanted to stay with him. _

He was like a child, with his naivety, his complete lack of worldly understanding. All he knew, was what she told him. It was a completely blank slate. It was how she looked. Empty. No, not empty. Jet had his own secrets, underneath. They were locked away, forbidden. No living soul could touch them, not even himself. He had his own facade, just like her. Only his wasn't intentional. The person he was, that was scrubbed out, almost entirely, leaving only a faint reminder of what once lived. No memories, just hearsay and fragments of rumour. While her empty facade was an act, his was genuine. She was trying to draw out the person that lingered inside, but the longer she tried, the more time she spend with him, Mai slowly realised that there was no way to retrieve him. He was locked away, in the bottom of a very, very deep pit, with no way to drag him out. Perhaps he was dead entirely.

_And she liked that_. The idea of losing one's past, entirely, having everything that made them human, that made them _them, _scourged from the body and soul, both terrified and seduced her. She could pretend to be as blank and clean as a piece of paper, but she couldn't hide the stains on her soul. It was black and decaying. Mai had no delusions about her crimes. She was far from innocent. No amount of scrubbing could remove the hurt she had caused. Every passing day, as she remained complicit in Azula's hand, the stain grew bigger, the stark realisation that she was doing _wrong_, she knew it, and no amount of rationalisation could ever change the truth, it grew.

But she didn't _want_ to be clean. She didn't want to be the innocent child that Jet was. She could never bear to part with her past. It was like running away, leaving somebody else behind, to be framed, like Jet. Innocent and guilty all at once, destined to _die_ for what the past Jet had done. That shadowy former self, locked in the bottom of that pit with no way of getting out.

Jet heard the sounds of voices, of footsteps, before she did. He stopped short on his walk, staggering forward as Mai pulled on his arm, still caught up in her own thoughts, not realising that he had stopped until she felt the uncomfortable jerk on her shoulder.

"What is it?" She couldn't see Jet's face. The lamp didn't light it. She'd kept it low in her hand on purpose.

"Listen." He said simply. They were well within earshot now. Mai's eyes grew wide, slowly filling with horror. _No._ They weren't coming from outside. They were emerging from the depths of the ship. Where she needed to be.

"Come on." She hissed, finding the first door at her right. She pulled it open, shoving him inside. She hovered in the doorway for a moment, indecisive, before stepping inside and letting the door shut, quietly. She leaned against the steel with a long sigh, closing her eyes.

"Mian?" Her eyes snapped open. Mai realised for the first time that Jet was breathing very, very close to her. He was _so close._ The blood rushed to her face, as she realised they were in a tiny closet. One foot was in a bucket, the other standing on a mop. She couldn't speak. He grasped at her hand, the one that held the little lantern, prising it from her fingers, lifting it slowly. Bringing the light up to their eyes. "Mian, I-"

"Shh." She held a finger to her lips. The footsteps were close. She strained to hear what they were saying, but it was garbled and fuzzy. They were most likely soldiers, out to take their turn on patrol. They wore such heavy boots. Jet fell silent, but he kept looking at her, with that fixed, inscrutable gaze. Mai looked down at her feet, resolutely. It was a battle of wills. She wouldn't look at him. _Because she was terrified something would give her away. _She felt brittle under his gaze. Like single crack in a glass, that threaded outwards, spreading, like a web, about to shatter, the second it was touched.

Her eyes flickered upward. Mai couldn't bear looking down anymore, couldn't handle the weight of Jet's eyes on her. So she lifted her head and looked in the eye. She was going to challenge him. To show that he had no effect on her. But the moment she looked at him, deep down, beyond his dark eyes, a short, ugly half-gasp, almost like a sob, broke from her lips. Her hands were shaking. She felt sick in her chest. Mai hadn't felt something like this since _Zuko._ This was dangerous and electrifying. Zuko was an idea she had grown up with, something that had shifted abruptly from a certainty to an illicit doubt. But this, with Jet, had _never _been right.

Was that why her heart beat so fast in her throat? Was it the _idea_ that compelled her? Was that why she found herself inching closer to him, unable to tear herself away from those unwavering dark eyes? Was that why her hands were on his face?

Mai was relieved when Jet let the lantern slip from his hands. The glass broke, the little light went out, the pair were plunged instantly into a crushing, immutable blackness. She couldn't see anything, not even a shadow, not even the faintest blur in the dark. She could only hear, and smell and touch and _taste._ She could almost imagine somebody else. No, she couldn't. The voice was too different.

Later in bed, she would close her eyes and open them again, looking up at the ceiling, lit vaguely by the golden crack of light under the door. She tried to imagine what it must have looked like. Because without sight it felt to her a dream. Unreal and remote. It was already slipping away from her, somehow.

But facing his own low ceiling in the lamplight, Jet kept his eyes closed, keeping the smell and sound of her on the edge of his senses. Those few moments in the blackness were the most vivid of his life.

* * *

"Go to bed Shan."

There was a half-darned sock lying abandoned in her lap. A cup of tea rested on the arm of her chair, cold. Her face was white and pinched, dark brown eyes staring down at her trembling fingers. She ignored her husbands' words. She clenched her hands, loosened her fingers, balled them into fists, again and again, watching her knuckles flash white. Dark smudges, black as coal, were under her eyes. Renshu pressed a thumb against the page of his book, the spine creaking in the dimly-lit room as he lay it closed on his lap. She heard the noise, her face brittle and strained. "I'll stay up. You get some sleep." She was as stiff and deaf as stone. He couldn't look at her face. She was positively _haunted._ Renshu closed his eyes, heaving a long sigh. "Do you want something to drink?"

He didn't mean another cup of tea. He thought at first that Shan was ignoring him. But she gave the slightest, almost imperceptible shake of her head, eyes still staring downwards as she wrung her hands. "Are you hungry?" Another shake. It wasn't as though Renshu had the slightest idea of how to cook. She took care of all that. "He'll be back soon." He tried to keep his tone warm. She didn't make any outward sign of comprehension. "He's a clever boy, he'll keep out of trouble." He tried to console her. It wasn't working. Her concern left him aching. It wasn't even her son, but she wouldn't sleep until he came home. She exhausted herself with fear and worry. As far as Shan was concerned, Lee was her boy, as long as he lived under this roof. She'd stepped into those empty shoes, because she didn't think he had anybody else. Renshu let out a long, deep sigh, leaning back into the chair, the spine creaking once more as he opened the book, turning his eyes back to the page. She was still and quiet, she had shut herself off from him. There was nothing more he could say. Nothing he could do, other than wait, with her, in the light of a single candle at his elbow, which slowly descended into the wax, the light growing dimmer, the shadows lengthening.

He started to grow sleepy. He'd slept badly the past week, kept awake with that all-too-familiar feeling of unease and restlessness, Shan tossing and turning beside him. They whispered to each other in the night, Shan holding his hand, like she used to when she was just a girl. Asking him if it was going to be okay. He couldn't give her an honest answer.

The book was heavy and wordy, he found himself rereading sentences, struggling to take it all in. His eyes stung. Every time he turned a page, the bandage on his wrist rustled against the paper, dragging him out of his torpor as rage and injustice swelled afresh within him. Eventually he let the book fall closed in his lap, leaning back against the chair as his eyes drifted closed. He cast a sidelong glance at his wife before his eyelids lowered, catching a glimpse of her in that same stiff position, with her hands and eyes locked.

He was almost asleep when he heard the doorlatch click.

Shan jerked up, knocking the tea cup from the chair as she started, rising instinctively to her feet. She didn't rush to the door right away. She stood there, her mouth in a twisted, trembling knot as she stared at the closed door. Renshu sat motionless. They'd locked the door before. Security measures. Shan let out a choked gasp in realisation, scurrying across the room, her fingers trembling as she slid the lock, heaving the door open.

"Where have you _been?_" She was near tears. Renshu set the book aside, standing up slowly as Shan pulled the dark-headed boy into the room, slamming the door shut, driving the bolt home. "It's almost dawn, you've been gone all night!" She tried to keep her voice low, for her children's sake. They didn't need to hear this. But her whispered voice broke into a high, rasping screech. She shook Lee by the shoulders as she shouted in his face. "Jin's been worried _sick _about you! She said there was a riot, and-"

"Shan, _stop." _She froze at the hand on her arm. His voice was so soft, next to hers. It was why she stopped, so suddenly. Renshu's stomach clenched painfully as he looked at the teenager. He smelled of smoke, his clothes were covered in soot and singed at the hem, ash smudged his face. But that wasn't what rattled Renshu. Lee looked petrified, stunned, and absolutely devastated. His face was as white as paper beneath the soot and ash, his chin tight and eyes oddly bright, with that familiar, tense expression of a young man who was doing everything in his power to keep from crying. "Lee, what's wrong?" Shan's voice was a broken whimper in her throat as she finally looked at him, finally realised how broken down and frayed he had become.

"Lee?" She tried asking him herself, her hands relaxing on his shoulders, hanging loosely, suggestive of an embrace. He made an expression of pain. Shan mistook it for some sort of emotional turmoil. "Lee, talk to us."

"I..." He shook his head, a hand over his mouth. He stepped away from her, refusing to look at either of them.

"Sit." Renshu took his singed sleeve, guiding him to the chair. He sat down heavily, looking down at his trembling, soot-stained hands. He could still hear the screaming. The smell of the smoke. The blood. "Jin said there was a riot. Are you all right?"

"I.." He still couldn't talk. Zuko could still hear that soft little babies' whimper, in the cold, dark alley, stirring her weak limbs. _They were so close to death._ "I-I'm fine." He managed to choke out, fooling nobody.

"What happened?" Shan was persistent. She ignored the scathing look from her husband, crouching down beside the chair. The boy couldn't look either of them. His head was now in his hands, in an attempt to hide from the pair. "Lee?"

"There was..." He swallowed. "There was this house... And it was burning, they set it on fire, I don't know why..." Renshu's folded arms slowly fell to his side, listening. "This woman and her baby were stuck inside, she was pinned. Her husband, he was _screaming_ at the soldiers to get her out and they weren't listening... They knew she was in there and she was going to die and they did nothing." Shan gasped, her lower lip trembling. Renshu's hand fell on Shan's shoulder, squeezing tightly in a weak attempt to comfort her. The woman felt sick. "They weren't part of the riot. They hadn't done _anything._" Zuko's voice rose higher. "We're supposed to fight with honour!" He couldn't comprehend it. Despite his growing cynicism, Zuko still had some tiny seed left of his old ideals. At the very least, he would have expected others to follow it. "How can we say we're so great, after doing this?" He stopped paying attention to what he was saying. He had forgotten himself. He was exhausted and traumatized. He was no stranger to bloodshed, but the events of the night struck a chord deep within him, breaking past his battle-hardened shell, piercing his heart. They were going to kill a _baby._ His voice faded to a murmur. "How could we _do_ this?"

Renshu's heart quickened. His gaze dropped down to his wife, but he only saw that same mournful shock and sympathy. She wasn't as fast as him. He looked down the soot-stained ivory fingers, threaded through the shaggy mop of black hair. Lee was shaking his head, muttering to himself, but Renshu ceased to listen as he struggled to piece together the boys' frantic outburst.

_What did he mean by 'we'?_

* * *

Cue the drama.

Next one is going to have so much going on it'll make your head spin. (Now I have to live up to that)


	33. Chapter 33

My excuse this time?

Final hand-in for thesis. Which is DONE meaning I don't have ANY uni until MARCH.

And that's if I even decide to go back. Feels good.

I made this nice and long for y'all, too. Plus, my live-in boyfriend is leaving in two days for Germany for TWO FREAKING WEEKS which is a lifetime in my book. However, I WILL be able to write basically all the time. No more pesky relationship stuff getting in the way (I kid really. Love that man to bits).

Point is, you'll see more soon. Like, in a week soon. I'm so excited.

* * *

"Well, it's not broken."

Renshu's shoulders sagged in relief at the man's words, leaning heavily against the low wooden examiner's table. Lee's eyes closed, head sinking down in a long sigh.

"Nasty bruising and swelling, and it'll hurt like nothing else for a week or so, mark my words." Yisheng pushed past his brother-in-law, opening a drawer in his tall apothecary cabinet. "You had a nasty knock, Lee. You're lucky." He pulled out jars, tossing herbs together in a mortar, barely looking down at his hands. "I've been up all night dealing with some nasty cases. Awful business. Seen women and children too, with burns and broken limbs. Disgusting." Renshu's arms were crossed, not looking at the doctor, but at the boy who sat shirtless on the edge of the table, staring down at his knees. The black and purple bruising spread across his shoulder and collarbone like an ink stain, looking angry and painful. Yisheng looked back over at Lee. "How did you say you got this again?"

"I didn't." His words were stiff and hollow. He couldn't look at anyone. He felt almost drunk. He still heard the sound of the screaming in his ears, still smelled the smoke. Even as the night faded and gave way to dawn, as the city slowly woke, stumbling over the remains of the last night, he couldn't shake the sounds and smells and sights that plugged his senses.

"He was in the riot." Renshu's voice was slow and even. He kept his eye on the quivering teen, tapping his finger slowly against his folded arm, tongue between his teeth. He hadn't taken his eyes off him, not since that awful outburst, that utterance, that _'we_'.

"Spirits." Yisheng sighed. He feared as much. He approached Lee, slapping the pungent cream on the bruised skin in handfuls. His nose wrinkled at the odour. "Smells bad, I know, but it'll do wonders for the swelling and colour. Keep putting this on for a few days and it'll help things along." Lee nodded wordlessly. The doctor turned back to his work space, re-corking jars and bottles.

"Did a woman come in last night?" Lee's voice made both men pause. Yisheng's hands fell still, and he turned, staring at the bruised teen. "With a baby?"

"I had lots of women come in." Yisheng wiped his hands on a smelly rag. "You'll have to be more specific."

"Ying." Her name suddenly came to him, after a few muddled seconds. "Her name was Ying. The baby was called Hope."

"Hhm." Yisheng cast his eyes up to the low ceiling. "Y-Yees. Ying. Young thing, tiny as a bird. Nasty blow on the stomach." Lee nodded.

"Did she make it?"

"She's fine." Yisheng re-opened drawers, replacing his jars and bottles. "Wrapped her up and sent her on her way. I've told her to come back in a few days to check on the healing. Did you know her?"

"Sort of." Lee reached for his clothes, pulling them on slowly, wincing in pain as he tried to lift it over his head. Renshu helped him thread the injured arm through the sleeve, still not saying a word. Yisheng watched, waiting for him to say something else, but Lee had fallen silent. He arched his neck back, letting Renshu fasten the buttons on his shirt. He approached his brother-in-law awkwardly, feeling for the coin purse in his pocket.

"Right Yisheng, how much do I owe y-"

"Put that away." The man held up his hand, waving the coin purse away. "Don't mention it. You both stay safe now."

"We will." He touched Lee on the elbow, coaxing him to rise to his feet. He obeyed wordlessly, eyes still downcast. _When were they going to stop screaming._ "Take care." He closed his mind to the pleasantries. He didn't have the strength to talk to anybody. It was a struggle for Renshu to convince the boy to stand up and leave the house. He seemed locked within himself, refusing to respond to anybody. Even Jin couldn't break through the shell. She left for work in tears, confused and overwhelmed. He was broken off, distant from her. She grabbed his shoulders and tearfully screamed in his face, but he couldn't raise his eyes. He couldn't say anything to her. He was afraid to talk, terrified that if he opened his mouth, something would betray him.

"I don't know about you Lee," The voice was so low and deliberate, so close to his ear, it broke him out of his funk. "But I could sure use a drink right about now."

"A-All right." He winced at his creaky, disused voice, walking behind the man, falling silent. Renshu stepped into the mid-morning light, inhaling deeply. The street was oddly quiet. People stood in tight rings and clusters, looking over their shoulders with wide eyes. There were no children. There were no hawkers or musicians, no animals, nothing that usually had the wide street in a busy roar. They were introspective and cautious.

Renshu planned to go to one of his favourite tea haunts, just a few blocks down the street from his brother-in-law's house. But he found himself walking past the sign, his feet carried on, and it took some moments for him to realise it. Perhaps that was a good thing. He didn't really want to drink tea, and he assumed Lee didn't want to either.

The boy didn't speak as he sat down in the dim little room. There was little he could say. Renshu set the drink down before him, a tiny cup of nasty, black stuff. Man's drink. He wrinkled his nose, sniffing tentatively, before tilting his head back, draining it in a single gulp. Renshu raised an eyebrow. His daughter had clearly been teaching Lee how to drink.

"I know it's been a long night." His voice came out of nowhere, it seemed. He wasn't aware of the words, until they had been spoken. Renshu blinked, surprised. "I know you're tired." He continued, leaning back the chair. The pub was busier than normal. Even though it was the morning, people congregated, swapping stories and gossip, trying to make sense of what had happened. Survivors whispered their stories to rings of hushed listeners. Renshu realised that this was as good a place as any to talk to him. At least in this room, there wouldn't be any confrontation. Not in front of witnesses. He took a deep breath, clutching his cup, staring down into the black pit.

"I don't want to talk about it." Lee slowly raised his eyes to meet him. "_Please."_ Renshu opened his mouth to speak, pausing, wondering how he could bring it up.

"Did Jin ever tell you about what I used to do, before I was married?" He took a tiny sip of his drink. The dark head before him should silently. "Well," Renshu set down the cup. "I was in the Dai Li." Lee made a noise of shock, low in his throat. His eyes widened. "Never fully initiated," he added quickly. "I broke before that happened. A lot of things happened, all at once, and I decided that things were better on the other side. Not a _lot_ of people know, but it's hardly a secret. My father was notorious in his time, it's not hard to make the connection. It's why the children use their mother's family name. I'm surprised Jin hasn't told you yet. Did she tell you about her?"

"You mean her bending?" His mind was racing, struggling to process the ramifications of what this meant. He didn't realise the man was building up to anything.

"It's becoming very rare in Ba Sing Se, to bend. Class segregation isn't helping. Those that can bend either run away to join the army or are headhunted by the Dai Li." Figuratively or literally? Lee opened his mouth to ask, but Renshu continued speaking. "Having three children in one family is a miracle. Or a curse, depending who you ask." His mouth twisted in a wry smile. "I asked them keep quiet but these things leak out. It's obvious when you look at Meng. His eyes are far too green." Renshu's heart started to thud in his chest, as he took a deep breath as he raised his gaze. The boy was still looking at him. It was something he'd noticed right away. Renshu assumed he was some sort of half-caste. He turned his mind away from the possibility, unable to fault the boy who had saved his sons' life. "People forget to look, sometimes. But it's painfully obvious. Eye colour _always_ gives it away." Lee's eyes dropped like a stone. _Oh Agni, No. _His hands disappeared, under the table. He was trembling. "Look at me." His voice was very, very low. "Lee, _look at me."_ He slowly looked up, from the tabletop to Renshu's face, his jade-green stare, fixated on him. There was no way he could ever hide his golden eyes. "You spoke of the soldiers that burned down the house and suppressed the riot. You said 'we'. Do you remember this?" He shook his head. "You identify with them. If not now, you did recently. Didn't you?"

"I-I..." Renshu watched Lee carefully, analysing him for any moment, any sign of panic. The floor was made of stone, he wasn't worried about protection. He was more worried that Lee would do something to expose himself. "It's not-"

"Were you in the army?" The boy was motionless, looking sick. "Lee, you have to tell me. Tell me _now_, or..." He leaned back, shrugged his shoulders with a little sigh. "There's the door. If you can't tell me the truth, walk. I won't tell anybody. You can leave a free man. But you cannot ever come near my family again. Not Meng, not Jin. No one. I will not share my home with a liar Lee. I don't tolerate secrets."

"No..." He shook his head. "I can't... you don't understand, it's not that simple-"

"It's _very _simple, Lee." Renshu leaned in, palms spread out on the table. "You can either tell me the truth, or you can leave." He watched the dark-haired boy carefully. He was deathly white, his trembling hands over his mouth. He closed his eyes, shoulders slumped. He looked defeated.

"I can't." Lee pushed back his chair. Renshu stilled, eyes widening. "I can't do it." He repeated as he rose to his feet. His voice was shaking. "I can't." He pushed the chair back in with a short gasp. "I _can't_." Lee's voice broke, and without another word, he turned away from the man, head down, a thick curtain of black hair hiding his face.

"Lee, _no." _ Renshu sprung up, seizing his wrist before he could take another step. Lee stood transfixed, staring at him, mouth open. "Don't... don't go anywhere." His chest had tightened as Lee stood up, preparing to leave. He realised in an instant that his ultimatum was nothing more than a hollow threat. He didn't want Lee to leave. Not for a moment. "Look, sit down." He pushed him back into the chair, gently, touching his good shoulder. Lee wouldn't look at him. "What are afraid of?" He didn't sit down himself. Instead, he crouched in front of the chair so they were eye-level, their faces very close. "That I'll hate you? That I'll tell?"

"Everything." His eyes were still downcast. Renshu's grip slackened, and he withdrew his hand slowly. "You'll never want to see me again if you knew."

"Give me some credit Lee." He settled back a little on his heels. "I know what it's like to be born into a lie, to break away from it." Lee remained silent. "What if I made a promise? I won't turn you over to anybody. I won't kick you out. Nothing will change."

"You will." He whispered. "Of course things will change. They couldn't ever be the same."

"Lee, I've always known there was something different about you." Renshu tried to appeal to reason. "I'm not an idiot. I know what people from the Fire Nation look like. But, I didn't say anything because I knew you were a good person. I understood that a man's past is his own. I respect that, deeply. That wasn't what changed things. You put my daughter in _danger_. More than once. The moment you did that, it became my business. I want to know what it is that makes you feel so strongly about these people. You owe me that Lee, for what you've done to Jin. And in turn, I owe you my word that nobody else will know." Lee slowly raised his eyes. "And you have that. You don't have to tell me everything, Lee. Just where you come from, who you really are. A name. Something."

"A name?" Their eyes had met. "You want a name?" Renshu nodded. "What about my father's name?"

"A-All right." He faltered. "But I don't know many people in the Fire Nation-"

"You'll know him." Lee tried to stop the awful rushing in his ears. Why was this so hard? It was premeditated. He hadn't ever actively revealed himself to somebody like this. Not since... And that had gone terribly. That was why he'd sworn to keep it a secret, since. But Jin had broken all of his inward promises. Why did he still cling to them? He felt numb. There was nothing left, that could save him. He held his breath, taking the final plunge.

"It's Ozai."

* * *

It was a relief when dawn broke for Mai.

Finally, she could rise out of her bed without arousing suspicion. She wandered about on deck in a dream, eyes half-opened, replaying the scene of last night, over and over again in her mind. She wondered what it must have looked like. All she had to remind her was darkness. Mai still couldn't believe that it happened. She _never _did anything like that, not ever. She'd never even _thought_ about any other boy – _except him_ – before, and in the space of one night, she had _kissed_ him, a rebel and a peasant. Not just kissing. Much, much more. Mai's face flushed a deep read at the thought. She never imagined _anything_ like that would happen to her. She wasn't one for violent passion. But she didn't feel regret. Shock, yes. Shame or humiliation, no. Never. Mai would do it again, all over again, if she could. _Nobody can tell me what to do._ She paused in her walk, leaning against the railing, hands trailing over the side as she remembered standing beside him last night. How strange. She had fallen for a shadow.

_Have I really fallen?_ Mai bowed her head, examining herself. She had promised, had _sworn_, to keep her head. To make sure her emotions didn't get in the way. _But she couldn't deny how she felt._ He made her feel sick. Like fireworks had been set off, in her stomach, her head. _Why?_ Was his adoration? The fact that for the first time, in her _life, _somebody had looked at her with simple, blind affection? Had tried to kiss her? Touched her face and looked her in the eye? Why was it falling? Mai didn't feel like she had fallen. She felt _high._ She could reach up and touch the clouds. Nothing could touch her soul – except him.

"You're up early." Mai was brought back down to earth with an awful crash. She closed her eyes, trying to block the screeching from her ears, as she righted herself, fixed an expression of bored indifference on her face as she turned to look at the girl beside her.

"Good morning Azula." She tried her best to keep her face completely unreadable. It was so easy. She was an expert at it. "I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep. Thought I would catch the dawn."

"It's so _pretty._" She said the word with an ugly sneer on her lips, flinging the words away from her, letting them drop into the sea. She sounded derisive and insulting. Mai looked out over the water. It was a fantastic shade of orange, The sky was on fire, the flames stretching out across the water. Mai leaned against the railing, looking out over the gentle waves.

"I hate the colour orange." She announced, feeling the cold air brush the back of her neck. She shivered. "I'm glad we don't use it."

"The Nomads wore orange, that's why we don't touch it." Azula muttered. "Orange and yellow. So _strange. _ You would expect they would wear grey."

"Maybe they wanted to be seen in the sky." Mai murmured, raising her gaze out of the water, above the sun. Although it would be useless in this sunrise. Azula let out a chuckle, a single, short syllable through her nose, turning away from the ocean, leaning her back against the railing.

"How's the boy? What's his name? The rebel." Mai froze at the words, throat closing. "Get anything out of him?"

"No." It was a miracle she kept her voice steady. Mai swallowed, shaking her head. "No, sorry. No confession... I think it's real. I don't think he remembers doing it."

"Ugh, I figured as much." Azula made a sound of annoyance in her throat. "I spoke to one of the Dai Li, he was on their radar. Somebody at some point had gotten into his head. Mind control, they're very good at it. That was how they kept the city so quiet."

"You didn't tell me?" Mai's voice rose a little, far too high, she was sure Azula had caught it. Azula raised an eyebrow at her outburst. "You should have told me." Mai was indignant.

"I wanted to be sure first, if you _knew_, then it would be a waste of time. You would put it down to amnesia without trying." Azula arched her neck in a sigh. "He's going to be a mess at the execution. Crying and saying he didn't do it. I can see it now." She spoke without any sort of pity for Jet. She sounded annoyed. She wasn't concerned with the human life. She was disappointed that the show was going to be ruined. Something burned in Mai's stomach, white-hot, against Azula. _How can you say that about him? _"At least you tried. Don't waste any more time on him." The white-hot began to turn sick.

"Got it." She couldn't hide it. The final syllable in her voice broke. Azula's head whipped around, quick as a snake, looking very carefully at her. "Sorry, something in my throat." She assumed a cool, indifferent look on her face. "What? You think I care about some dirty peasant?" It was easier, once she began talking. She hoped Azula didn't see her hands. "Besides." She shrugged. "I... Yeah."

"You still like _him, _don't you?" Azula's lips spread in a slow smile. "My brother. You _like_ him." Mai kept her gaze down. "You saw _her_, didn't you?"

"Of course I did." Mai gritted her teeth. "That..."

"Call her what you like, I don't care. Forget about him. Both of them. There won't be any shortage of boys at home. You'll be a hero Mai. They'll be falling over themselves to kiss your feet." Azula stood up straight, taking a step away from Mai, beginning to walk away, slowly, not bothering with a greeting. No doubt she would see Mai soon. Still looking up at the sky, Mai's eyes narrowed as a small black speck appeared in the sky. She blinked, thinking it was a trick of the light. She watched it slowly, brow creasing in a frown, as she realised it was a bird. Mai hadn't seen a bird for days.

"I think we have a message." She spoke softly in her frown. Azula stopped in her walk, and turned slowly back to the water. It wasn't until the bird was close enough for the pair to see the scarlet ribbon trailing through the air, that she snapped up, straight. He ran back to Mai, her hands clenched on the railing, knuckles white.

"Father." She breathed, teeth gritted. "What does he want?" Azula spoke to herself, rather than Mai, who gave no response. They both watched the bird circle, looping gracefully through the air as it slowed, coming to rest on the balcony between them. Azula took the letter carefully, her hands plainly trembling.

"What does it say?" Mai breathed as she watched Azula unfurl the letter. The sun shone through the paper, the letters clear and black through the page, inversed. Mai read them herself. It was only two short sentences.

_Things are not as they seem. You must return home __at once__**.**_

Azula read and re-read the letter, slowly shaking her head. The paper shook in the dawn light. Horror rose in her throat. _What has happened?_ Something was _wrong_. Azula was paranoid, and rightly so. She knew he wouldn't write to her, this close, unless something was horribly, terribly wrong. It just left one question. _Was it something I did?_

_"_Azula-"

"I have to go." She clenched the letter in her fist, the paper crumpling loudly. "Feed the bird and give it to the captain for me. I have... I have to go." She turned away from Mai, abruptly. "If you see Ty Lee, tell her to come see me. Please."

"I'll go wake her up in a moment." Mai promised softly, unsure if Azula had heard her. She was already walking away, the letter still crinkled and damaged in her hand. She was going off to have some sort of breakdown. Ty Lee whispered to her about how Azula sometimes had panic attacks, where she sat down and couldn't stop gasping for air. She never wanted anybody else. Not even Mai. Just Ty Lee. It wasn't an issue of trust. It was of face. No doubt Ty Lee had accidentally walked in on her having some sort of turn, had wormed her way into the most private insecurities of Azula, and refused to leave.

At once. Why was the underscored? Mai looked over at the bird, offering her wrist. The hawk climbed onto her arms with a soft squawk, looking exhausted. She stroked his copper feathers gently, wincing as his fingers curled into her limb. She wore leather around her wrists, with twelve darts in each, she slept in them, but one of his talons stretched beyond the hidden cuff, digging into her skin, drawing blood. But she bore it silently, crossing the deck, absentmindedly stroking the bird with her free hand. She was reminded, somehow, of Jet. No, she wasn't reminded. He'd never left her mind. Mai could feel the warmth of the bird in the cold morning air. They were so close, only a few days away. It was over. She didn't have an excuse to see him, anymore. The thought left her heart sinking. There was no way she could see him, without being exposed. Without bringing everything, her honour and integrity and loyalty, into question. Without being called a traitor, and locked up, useless to anybody.

Just a few days. And then he would be taken away, tossed into a dungeon, for some days, or weeks, or months, before they dragged him out into the light, and ended his life publicly. Horribly. No swift execution for the rebels. She'd seen with her own eyes what the Fire Nation did with Earth Kingdom criminals. Her father never had the stomach to authorise it himself, but she had seen in one of the colony towns two years ago. They tied the rebel to a wooden pole, doused him in kerosene, smeared his clothes with tar. Her mother had found her, pulled her away before the fires were lit, but Mai could hear the screaming. The streets were full of it.

_They'll do it to him._ Her stomach cramped painfully at the thought. Mai thought she was going to be sick, pitching forward, the bird screeching as he was knocked off balance, tightening his talons on her skin. She'd ignored reality, refused to believe it. She thought there was something that could absolve him. But nothing had changed, she had nothing. Nothing that could save his life. Now they were so close, the letter urging them home faster, the fear doubled, tripled, in her chest. _They're going to burn an innocent boy._ She sank onto her knees, fighting back the urge to scream aloud. Perhaps she could do something, give him a lethal dose of poison, some sort of drug that would leave him numb for the execution. _No. That's not enough._ She couldn't let _anything _happen to him. Mai rose to her feet slowly, resolve rolling over her in a long, slow wave. There was _something_ she could do. She couldn't let Jet _die_ for something he had no idea he'd done.

_I'm not going to let him suffer._

* * *

"There you are. Where's Lee? Honey, you look like you've seen a ghost, what's wrong? Can I fix you something to drink? Sit down, right there, I'll get a glass. That's it, just give me a moment, I know it's under here somewhere, I have to hide it from Jin and the boys. Here we go. How much? I'll just fill it up. Here we go. Renshu, darling, say something. Please."

She sat in front of him, with the cup filled with drink held out before her. He took it silently, staring down into it. This stuff was colourless, and cloudy. There was a speck in the drink, floating in lazy circles. He watched it drift. Renshu still hadn't said a word.

"Renshu?" She touched him in the shoulder, jerking him out of his torpor. He started, looking up at her. "Darling, what's wrong?" He downed the cup in one go, grimacing, shaking his head. He pushed her aside as he stood up, clumping heavily to the crude wooden table where Shan had left the open bottle. "... Renshu?"

"Lee's fine." He finally spoke, pouring himself another half-glass. "Nothing broken. Yisheng said it will be fine in a week." Renshu corked the bottle, returning to his seat. He still felt numb. He couldn't believe it, that the quiet, soft-spoken boy Jin brought home was the Firelord's _son_.

"Where is he now?" Shan sat down in her own chair, leaning forward, features tugged downwards, questioning. "What happened? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." He sighed heavily, hand clenched around the cup. "Just a nasty shock. Lee went off to speak to some friends of his uncle's." A knot tightened in Renshu's stomach, as another ugly reminder flashed in his head. _The uncle who nearly conquered this city._ "He'll be back for dinner. Where are the kids?"

"The little ones are in the backyard. Meng's gone out to meet friends and the other two are at work. Renshu, tell me what's wrong. I don't like this. You look _awful._" He looked up from the drink to her, her contorted, worried face, greying hair falling into her eyes. He downed what was left of his drink. Hang all of his promises.

"I had an interesting conversation with Lee." He groaned, leaning back to place the empty cup on the mantle. "We got to talking about his parents."

"Oh?" Shan leaned forward, almost hanging out of her chair. Renshu stretched out, taking her hand. "What is it?"

"Don't tell the boys." Renshu spoke quietly. "Jin knows of course, but the rest don't. I promised I wouldn't tell a soul but I can't keep this quiet. Not to you."

"Renshu, you're scaring me. Tell me." Her eyes were open very wide, staring at him, fixated.

"He's not from here. Not from Ba Sing Se, not from the Earth Kingdom. Not from here at all." His grip tightened. "He's from the Fire Nation."

"_What?"_ Her voice was crippled with genuine shock. She had no idea. "Y-You mean the colonies, he's from one of the colony towns. Well, that's all _right, _I mean, they've been there for a hundred years, they were bound to mix sometime-"

"No Shan." Renshu shook his head heavily. "Not the colonies. The _actual_ Fire Nation. He's not half-blooded. He's pure as pure can get." She withdrew her hand and turned away.

"She said I would never let him near us if she knew." She breathed, shaking her head. "I didn't think she was serious. Oh _Jin_ you fool." Her head sank into her hands. "Oh _no. _Is he... I mean... can he..."

"Bend? Oh yes." Renshu looked over at his wife. "He's... Shan you're not going to like this." He took in a long breath. She looked back over to him, mouth trembling. "He's the Firelord's son. The Prince."

"_What?"_ She stood up directly, towering over him. "You _cannot_ mean that-"

"I do." Renshu gave a little shrug, not sure of what to say. "He's the heir to the throne, the child of the man who intends to rid the world of us." It sounded so _sick_, so sick and twisted to hear it.

"What is he doing _here?"_ Shan's voice rose, almost to a screech. "What do we have? Was he planted? Oh Renshu, what does he _want_ with us?"

"Nothing. Nothing like that." He elaborated, shaking his head. "I couldn't ask _him_, but I got in touch with a friend." Renshu didn't mention that it was his nephew. Like any member of the Dai Li, Gaolin had learned of the reason why Prince Zuko had been found alone in the city. Azula was very clear to emphasize his identity as a traitor to them. "He's been kicked out of his own country."

"_Why?"_ Spirits, when would she calm down? Renshu didn't put on a display like this. He swallowed his shock quietly. "Did he do something?"

"A number of things." Finally, he stood up, taking his wife's hand. "He was banished when he was thirteen. It's... How he got that... scar." Renshu wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She looked up at him, tense and stiff as a board. "He's a traitor of the Fire Nation, they would kill him if they went back."

"Oh, that poor boy." She finally spoke after a minute of deep, reflective silence, where she clung to her husband, leaned into him as she tried to make sense of the storm in her head. Trust Shan to find pity for him. "That _poor_, poor boy. Oh, goodness. He was just a _child._" She was shaking her head. "I thought he was in some sort of accident."

"From what I hear, it was very deliberate." Renshu sounded grim. "Honey, I promised not to tell anybody. That nothing would change, if he told the truth. He was terrified we would send him away."

"I can see why." She looked very troubled. No doubt she was reconciling his blood and past in her mind. "The poor thing..."

"Don't _fuss _over him." He crossed the room, leaning out the open window, looking over into the street. "I mean it. Leave him be. He's not a bird with a broken wing. He'll be fine."

"You took this all rather well." She murmured gently. "You aren't afraid?"

"Not for us." He sighed heavily. "For Jin, maybe. He promised he would never, ever do anything to hurt her, and I believe his intentions. But look at last night. He dragged her into an awful situation."

"I very much doubt he dragged her. She would refuse to stand aside and watch people get hurt Renshu, it's who she is." She gave a tiny smile. "She's like you were."

"All the same," He looked down at the crawling mass of people, still so _quiet. _"If he's going to try and be a hero, she's not getting involved." He rested his elbows on the windowsill, sighing. "What does he _see_ in her?"

"Are you serious?" She stood beside him, staring out. "He loves her."

"I know he does." Renshu kept his voice low. "I asked him what would happen to her, we won the War. If his father was dead and he was allowed to return to the Fire Nation, if they asked him to claim his birthright. I know it's a slim chance, he knows too, but I wanted his honesty."

"Really?" She turned to him. "Did he say anything?" He looked over at his beautiful, ageing wife, feeling as though his heart might break at the sight of her. He overturned his _life_ for her. For Love. And he would never ever ever change a thing, not for one single moment. It was why he believed Zuko's words. Because twenty years ago, he felt, he _did_, the exact same thing. Anything was possible.

"He did." Renshu found her hand, taking it in his own, raising it to his lips. "He said he would marry her."

* * *

If there was one thing Iroh could never get used to, it was the smell.

The darkness wasn't so bad. He could make his own fire anyway, so the cell never went pitch-black, not if he didn't want it to. He didn't mind the hunger or thirst. They were old friends of his, Iroh could stand that. He didn't mind the cold. He wasn't cold. He just had to work harder to keep himself warm. He wasn't worried about sleeping on a thin mattress that a slave would turn their nose up at. The chains weren't too tight or uncomfortable.

But the _smell._ It was damp, heavy, warm and stale. He gagged at it. He tried breathing through his mouth, but he could taste it, and that was worse. He tried to hold a rag over his nose, but the stench pervaded it. There was nothing he could do about it. That was what kept him on edge. If it wasn't for the smell, he would be able to close his eyes, meditate, imagine himself somewhere new. But every time he tried, as soon as he breathed in, the horrible smell met his nostrils, and the illusion was broken. There was nothing he could do.

He pretended that it didn't get to him. He was stronger than this. This was no real measure of suffering. Surely, Azula could throw something heavier at him, if she really wanted to torment him. Iroh was a tough old man, she must have known that. So he purposefully kept a calm, peaceful demeanour. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of knowing she got to him.

It was easier if he didn't have to think about anything. The problem was, he had nothing else to do but think. He tried not to think about Zuko, but the harder he tried, the more his face flashed before Iroh's eyes. He wondered where his nephew was. Iroh knew about his sudden change of heart, the palace was full of it. He was _happy_ for him. Finally, after three years of mentoring and teaching, wondering if anything he said ever sunk in to him, Zuko had realised his own destiny. He understood his potential as a challenger to his father, rather than some sort of heir. He had taken the first, the biggest step, to reclaiming his own fate. He wondered if Jin was with him. Such a nice girl, so worldly and at the same time, completely naive. She would either go the entire distance, or she would crumble very quickly. Iroh could only hope it would be the former, purely for Zuko's sake.

The door creaked.

Iroh's eyes snapped open at the sound, leaning forward. It wasn't time for any sort of food, it was far too early, surely. Perhaps he had lost count of the hours. He spread his palm, lighting a fire in the gloom as the door swung open, a heavy black cloak stepping into his tiny cell. He couldn't see who it was. They kept their face in shadows.

"Who's there?" He challenged. They weren't holding any food. He caught sight of a thin arm, very white, tugging at the hood of the cloak. "Who is it?" It wasn't one of the Dai Li. Whoever it was, they were far too small for that. And it wasn't one of the Fire Nation soldiers either.

"I need your help." It was a woman. Not a woman, a girl. Iroh's forehead wrinkled deeply in a frown at the low voice. She took one very small step towards him, hovering tentatively near the doorway.

"Help with what?" Iroh kept his voice at a whisper. "Who are you?" He wracked his brains, trying to think. One of those girls. The two that Azula kept around her. One ran away to the circus a year ago, he remembered. The other, she was very, very quiet. He couldn't remember ever hearing either of them speak.

"Somebody who needs help." The flame swelled in his hand, but she kept her face down, pulling the hood even further over her head. "Help to escape."

"Show your face." Iroh challenged, rolling forward, onto the balls of his feet, as though he could strike out. "I need to know who you are." Was it some sort of test or trick? That seemed ridiculous. Azula already knew where he stood.

"Fine." The girl crouched down before him, lifting back the hood. It was the quiet one. Iroh swallowed, forehead creasing in a frown as he struggled to think why she was doing this. It didn't make sense to him. Why would one of Azula's most loyal supporters be asking him for help to escape? "I don't have much time, my distraction won't last long. There's another prisoner on board, a boy, he's going to be killed in the Fire Nation." Her voice caught. "He's a rebel." Iroh winced, understanding why she was shaking. Not a clean execution, then. "He's not innocent, but he doesn't deserve this. I know there must be a way to free him. You're a smart man, you've gotten yourself out of bad situations. I don't know how to do this. You can go too. The both of you." Her face was pinched and tired.

"When would you do it?" Iroh spoke very slowly, the frown deepening.

"Tonight. As soon as possible. The coast is only a few days away, the sooner it's done, the better chance you have of escaping."

"You?" His eyes slowly narrowed. "You don't mean 'we'?"

"I-I can't." Mai shook her head, lips pursed. "I'm not a traitor, I'm _not._ I just can't leave him to die."

"You became a traitor, the moment you began plotting against Azula." Iroh's voice sounded very hard. "You are suggesting an escape with no witnesses. Do you understand how hard that is? On a ship with constant patrols, hundreds of soldiers, in the middle of the ocean, you expect to be able to slip away in the night?"

"There has to be some way." Mai begged. "Can't you think of _something_, one way it could work? I've only ever heard you spoken of in respect and awe, even now. You're a genius."

"That's a stretch." He muttered the words darkly, to himself. "There are two things you must consider. Not only must you execute the escape without being caught, you have to ensure that there is no way of being followed. Do you think a lifeboat could outrun a ship like this?"

"So I would have to sabotage it." Mai whispered. "I can do that, I'm sure. It can't be too hard. What else?"

"You can't just sabotage the ship and leave it. They will repair it and come after you – us." He corrected himself. "You must make sure it's unfixable." Mai nodded silently. "That means incapacitating either the engineers, or making sure the engine is completely beyond repair. Both will be difficult to pull off unnoticed." He paused for a moment, in thought. "The most practical choice would be the engineers, but the taking of half a dozen lives to spare two..." He left the rest of the sentence to hang in the air between them. "They're not soldiers. They're not expected to fight and die."

"I don't have long." Mai lowered her voice. "Knock out the engine, I got it. I know how to subdue your guards without being caught. What else there? Is there anything?"

"Not that I can think of." Iroh shook his head slowly, disbelieving.

"Good." She stood up, drawing back. "I'll get you out first. Keep your ears open tonight. I'll try to be here as soon as the watch changes." She melted into the shadows. Far off, he could hear knocking and fumbling. "I have to go." Iroh straightened more, opening his mouth to question her, but the door scraped open, and she slipped out, a black shadow in the gloom, without any other words. He sank down, leaning against the wall with a long, heavy sigh. Why was he so reluctant? Why did he try to push her away when she offered a hand to him? He had nothing to lose from this. There was nothing more they could do to him. They already had him, he couldn't do anything in here. It was a heavy, lethargic feeling. He felt old, older than he ever had before.

Maybe it was her faith, in him, that made him sceptical of her.

* * *

Zuko knew something was wrong the moment he stepped through the gates. The last time he approached the University, there was a hubbub of activity, clusters of students, people marching about, the occasional vendor selling something. But now, it was restrained and muted. The vendors were gone, those who dared to walk about outside hurried past, keeping their eyes down, refusing to speak. There were no soldiers outside, but Zuko had a cold, nagging suspicion that somewhere, inside, they were combing through the university. This could be dangerous for them.

_Fire Nation History would be the first thing to arouse suspicion._ Zuko swallowed heavily, retracing his steps across the paved courtyard and into one of the long, low buildings. He sucked in the cool air, hands gripped into fists, hidden in his sleeves. He wasn't wearing that awful green uniform, he looked different to the rest. It was fine in the Lower Ring, where the colour and smells and sounds masked Zuko, but up here, where everybody dressed and talked and looked the same, he had a real possibility of being caught out.

He got lost once, unable to remember which identical hallway he was supposed to turn in to, but eventually, Zuko stood outside a heavy closed door, the name 'Hwan Lin' on a little brass plaque. He knocked on the door, drawing back and waiting as he repeated the little speech in his head. He couldn't quite remember everything he was going to say, it was all little snatches. That he _still _couldn't bend. He needed help. There had to be something else he could read. Maybe he had heard of something, in the last week.

Nothing. Zuko frowned and knocked on the door again. It wasn't a day people typically took off work, there seemed no reason for Hwan not to be here. He waited some moments before trying the door. The knob turned easily under his hand, with a clunk. It was broken. Zuko's throat tightened as he let the door swing open.

It had been ransacked.

Zuko stepped carefully into the room, trying not to tread on any loose papers flapping against the floorboards. The beautiful desk had been pushed over and drawers upended, the chair was in splinters, books had been torn down and rifled through, pages torn out. Zuko bit down hard on his lip as he looked around the little office, horror rising in his chest.

_No._

He left the door open, tearing down the hallway as fast as he could. If they'd done that to an office, _what would they have done to the library?_

Zuko only met a handful of people as he ran. All of them turned back, staring at him in confusion. He was drawing uncomfortable attention. As he entered the library, the smell of smoke, something he intuitively smelled from a distance, hit him hard in the face. He stopped short in his walk, noticing the eyes on him, weighing him up and realising that he wasn't supposed to be there. He took a step into the high-ceilinged hall, thinking. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a librarian approaching him. He took off briskly, making his way down the stairs where the archival records were kept.

"Excuse me!" He ignored the voice behind him, keeping his head down. "Excuse me, you can't just go in there!" Zuko pushed through the door, breath hitched in his throat. The smell of smoke, of charred paper, pervaded his senses. The door to the archival room had been torn down. He closed his eyes with a heavy sigh, stepping into the dim little room.

It had been completely ruined. Everything had been systematically taken out and burned. Charred scraps of paper clung to soot-stained rollers, scattered on the floor. He was entirely unsurprised that they had done this. It fitted their actions entirely. But Zuko was still filled with indignant outrage. This was _history._ It should have been beyond any political motives. _Who am I kidding. That's what motivates them most of all._ With his feet, Zuko kicked aside the rollers, looking for any scrap of paper that remained identifiable. There was nothing.

"I _told_ you, you can't come in here." The librarian's voice was like acid. "Please leave."

"When did this happen?" Zuko breathed, staring out into the room. He heard uncomfortable shuffling behind him.

"Two days ago. Now if you _please._"

"I'm going." Zuko turned away from the room, walking past the young librarian with his head down. His heart sank into his stomach. They had destroyed _everything._ Why? He plodded up the stairs, shaking his head. What did they have to gain from this?

Zuko's eyes snapped open, nerve-endings on fire as realisation hit him like an electric shock.

_What are they trying to hide?_

* * *

Something was _wrong._

Jet realised as soon as he awoke. He had finally drifted asleep before dawn, leaving the small lamp burning as he always did. He woke hours later with an aching stomach, the pitiful flame sputtering in its glass prison. Jet clung to the lamp as he watched it die, holding his breath at the exact moment the light died, plunging the room into darkness. It hadn't gone out before. Mian was always there in time to replenish the light. He lay on his thin mattress with his eyes closed, but he could still feel the blackness pressing down on his eyelids. He couldn't escape it. So he sat huddled against the wall with his head in his hands, whispering to himself. He had come so close to losing himself completely, with those first hours of complete darkness and silence, without knowing his own name. The fragile sanity he had slowly built up teetered dangerously, threatening to come crashing down.

He gasped as the door latch clicked. He jumped to his feet, heart racing as he approached the door with a wide smile. Tears of relief pushed at his eyes. But the euphoric joy died as suddenly as a lit match thrown into water as the hard face of a stranger stared down at him. It was a man, aged about forty, with dead, lifeless jade-green eyes. Jet's throat closed, as he instinctively backed away from the man.

"Where's Mian?" He breathed. The man, a Dai Li agent, ignored him. He pushed Jet backwards, onto the bed. A small wooden bowl was thrust into his shaking hands. "What have you done with her?"

"Eat." It was a short, sharp syllable. Jet looked down at the plain rice, and up at the man. A minute ago, Jet was ravenous. But now he felt sick and hollow. He shook his head, setting the rice down on the floor. He couldn't speak. "Fine." The man seized Jet's wrist with a glove of stone, reaching into his pocket. Jet struggled and cried out, realising what was happening, but the Dai Li agent easily withstood the weak blows as he fixed Jet's hands to the iron bars of his bed.

"_No!"_ Jet screamed weakly at the retreating form, the chains rattling horribly. "You can't _do_ this!" The man bent down to take the untouched rice, but made no indication that he heard the prisoner. "You don't understand – _Please-"_ The door slammed shut. Horror rose in Jet's throat, bursting out of him in ragged sobs, as he was submerged once more in darkness.

He couldn't do this again.

* * *

Zuko heard the screaming before anything else. The air rang with it, a heaving, shouting turmoil. But this wasn't like the riot. This was different. The voices weret a low roar, they were high and frightened.

He kept the small piece of paper, bearing the address of Hwan, crumpled in a tight fist. He'd slipped through into the Upper Ring through a known hole in the wall, yet to be fixed. Knowing he would be spotted immediately with his dull, plain clothes in the sea of opulence, Zuko kept to the smallest streets he could find. But it was only a few moments before he realised that something was terribly, terribly wrong, and he turned into the main street, plunging straight into the heart of the confusion.

There were _hundreds_ of them. Zuko watched the soldiers break down a door, bursting inside a very nice townhouse. No doubt it was by now empty. People pushed past him, looking dazed and shellshocked. They stumbled, clinging to babies, beautifully-carved chests, armloads of books, whatever precious belongings that could be snatched. Nobody had time to pack. They were literally thrown out of their homes, onto the street, and then made to move along. Zuko's heart hammered in his throat as he looked down at the paper in his hand, jaw clenched.

What if they had already emptied it?

He turned rapidly on his heel, bursting down the street. He pushed past people, knocked them down, stumbled on a dropped book and almost fell. While the Lower Ring as violent and angry, this crowd had a heavy, dull sense of fear. He could sense exhaustion and failure, an unwillingness to fight. They released their hold on their homes without complaint. Zuko could imagine what the soldiers would have done to those that dared to stand up to them. There was nothing they could do. None of them could put up decent defence. They were officials and politicians. Noblemen, not fighters.

Zuko turned into the street where Hwan lived, gasping for air. He lingered behind a stone wall, peering cautiously before daring to take a step. As he feared, the few homes in the street had guards outside every door, with several mulling about in the street, picking up trinkets which had been dropped. One dragged a lifeless man by the legs, leaving a red stain smeared across the cobblestones. He crouched down behind the wall, arching his neck to the sky in thought. He couldn't turn around and leave. If there was _anything _left that could help him, in was in that house. If he didn't go now it would be lost forever.

_But how do I get there?_ He looked back around the wall. It was _far_ too risky to attempt going through the front, without leaving a dense trail of bodies in his wake. He had to go along the back, through the immaculately manicured gardens, and hope there was a back door or window still unlocked. At least he was wearing green. Zuko lifted himself over the wall carefully, and into a garden lined with heavy shrubs. He crouched down, twigs sticking into his back, as he scoped out a hidden path along the garden. The walls themselves weren't high, certainly not enough for him to walk tall. So he had to run doubled over, resting forward on his hands when he was about to lose his balance. His heart hammered in his throat as he made his way along the gardens. Zuko was used to working in the shadows, in the dead of night. Being exposed like this, under the sun, was strange and frightening. He felt as open and insignificant as a fire-ant. There was very little to mask and protect him. He relied on eyes being turned away from him, rather than hiding.

Five houses down, he crouched behind a low bush, gazing at the back of the Hwan's home. The door was closed, but the windows on the top floor hung open. They weren't expecting this. This wasn't an escape. The inhabitants had been forced out, whether it was this afternoon or two days ago. Zuko straightened up, examining the facade of the house. The back garden, at least, was isolated. All he had to do was keep quiet as he slipped in and out, and nobody would be the wiser.

There was a trellis up the back of the house, entwined with pink flowers. Zuko began to scale the wooden structure carefully, wincing as the fragile wood creaked under his hands. It was a Jasmine vine. Zuko tried to breathe through his mouth, but the smell enveloped him, the tiny blossoms inches from his nose. He had to pause on the trellis for a moment, leaning his forehead against the latticed wood, breathing deeply, before he was able to continue. _Why did he still feel like this?_ There were several feet between the trellis and the nearest open window, and Zuko had to jump across, catching the ledge by his fingers. Light as a cat, he landed on the polished floor boards, waiting for any indication of sound. He heard soft murmuring, the far-off sound of banter from the front door, but the house was otherwise silent. It had a heaviness about it. It felt very alone. Zuko was in some sort of bedroom. He traced his fingers along the dresser, staring idly down at the perfume and jewellery, wondering how much it would sell for in the Lower Ring. His fingers itched to reach out and take something, just one ring, but he turned away, slipping through the half-open door and into the dark hallway.

If there was anything here, it would have to be in the study. He cracked open every door, peering through cautiously, until he found a cosy little room filled with books. Zuko pushed through, standing in the middle of the room with his hands in his sleeves, staring at the hundreds and hundreds of books that covered one of the walls. This was a lifetime of private collecting. Zuko carefully cracked the curtains, shedding light on the worn spines, squinting to read the lettering. He took two books that looked promising, but the rest seemed hopeless. It wasn't exactly what he was hoping for. Surely, there must be _something_ on firebending. It was a cornerstone of the Fire Nation culture, any library on history ought to have dozens of books on it. Zuko crouched to read the lowest shelf, but eventually leaned against the desk, shaking his head. He curled his fingers underneath the overhanging rim of wood, trying to think of anything else that could help him.

His fingers grasped something metal.

Zuko straightened up, mouth falling open as he stared at the key in his hand. He crouched, running his fingers along the underside of the desk. A tiny alcove had been hollowed out, the key slipped inside. It was brilliant. Anyone looking for a secret hiding space would turn the drawers upside down and rifle through the books. Who would think of that? Zuko's eyes ran around the room. Something was hidden in here. If not here, then somewhere in the house. Something that no one else was supposed to find.

Zuko looked down at the small brass key, his frown deepening.

_Something worth hiding._

* * *

_You can do this._

Mai stared at her reflection, studying the face that looked back at her. It wasn't her usual look of indifference – She looked _scared._

_This will be easy._ She looked down at the tiny glass bottle in her hand. She didn't have to worry about masking herself when it came to this. It didn't matter if they saw her face. They wouldn't be on the ship for long.

She _wished_ there was some other way. But Mai had visited the engine room, slipping in unseen. There was nothing she could do that would sabotage it beyond repair. Throwing something into the mechanism would be fixed within a day. The only hope she had letting the two males escape was incapacitating the crew of engineers that kept the ship running smoothly. The hairs stood up on the back of her neck in an involuntary shiver.

_You won't be killing them. _Mai slipped the bottle inside her dress. She couldn't justify the deaths of eight men in order to save the lives of two. She couldn't allow herself to be associated with death. She hated murder. It was callous and desperate.

_An hour._ That was all she had. An hour to coax the engineers into having a drink on the deck. To knock them out and put their bodies in the lifeboat. To get General Iroh and Jet out of their prison cells and overboard. All without being seen by the guard. Mai knew their paths, she had watched them on a handful of sleepless nights. In her mind, she had a route that wove through the ship, blind to the eyes of the guard at the precise moments. If everything went to plan, they would disappear in the black night, vanishing over the waves forever. And she would slip into her room, a ghost, a spider-fly watching unnoticed from the corner of the ceiling, never to be suspected.

She drew the black hood over her head, concealing her face. This wasn't Mai. Not the Mai anybody knew. Not Azula or Ty Lee. Not her parents. Not even Jet. _Especially_ Jet. Perhaps only Zuko would expect this of her. Would approve of it. She put his face out of her mind, shaking her head. She would be lying to herself, if she refused to believe that at least part of this, was for _him._ Mai didn't need Iroh as much as she said. Most of the plan was her idea. She rescued Iroh for Zuko_._

And Jet?

Her stomach went soft. She ran her fingers along her sides, feeling for her familiar knives and darts, making sure everything was in place before she stepped out of her haven of blamelessness.

Jet was for her.

* * *

I want to try and have _something_ happening in every chapter from now on, which will sort of be 'resolved' at the end. Sort of episodic. Starting from the next one, of course.

I hope you can still follow everything. I had to cut out a burgeoning subplot when I was editing the chapter, which was unfortunate, but obviously I have to put a stop to any 'new' stories and people from making an impression. Otherwise I'll never get anywhere. I have some really juicy plans for a couple of characters besides Jin and Zuko (ATLA characters of course) which I want to get into. But it will all link up and nothing will detract from their story. I hope, at least.


	34. Chapter 34

Haha. Man this is late.

There's a number of factors, most of all my own laziness, I think. But at least it's here now. Right?

* * *

The white sheets looked like wings.

Jin stood back to admire them for a moment, carelessly waving in the breeze. Fastened to the washing line by a couple of splintered wooden pegs, the cloth rolled dangerously. For a second, they looked almost as though they were about to fly away.

Jin wished she could fly.

She held that one small memory of flight. Of the unmistakable, euphoric sensation of fleeing through the air. The wind tearing the ribbon out of her hair, burning her eyes. It was so remarkably _cold, _she remembered. The air that filled her lungs were far too brisk for a summer afternoon. And then to fall. The smack of the water. Growing dark. The blinding terror. Being unable to breathe. Jin shook her head. That wasn't something she wanted to remember.

Her hands plunged into the soft basket of wool and cloth, extracting the corner of another sheet. She gathered it in her arm, careful not to let the clean fabric trail on the dust of the earth. It had that familiar, damp smell. Like hair. Something else, sweet. And a lurking undertone of a chemical, starchy odour. Her mother used a special remedy to counteract the smell of soap and chemicals, but it could never completely banish the smell. Not that Jin noticed anymore. After three years of sweating in a laundry, the acrid stench was almost unnoticeable to her. She looked down at her red knuckles and calloused palms. Factory hands. She didn't like to look at them. She could dress up in silk robes and wear perfumes, drape herself in gold and wear her hair with jeweled combs. Even her big flat feet could be hidden underneath long skirts and squeezed into delicate shoes, but there was nothing she could do to hide her rough, working-class hands. Jin fastened the sheet to the line, letting it billow out. She'd tried various creams and exfoliants to smooth her hands, but nothing could shift the long years of labour. When Zuko slept beside her, Jin would examine his hands with jealousy. The smooth, pale skin and slender fingers of a prince. They were soft as a babies. He kept his nails clean and neatly curved, with a sliver of white arching above the fingertip. Jin's were always dirty, cut back as far as possible without hurting her cuticles. Nails in a laundry were a hindrance. If there was one thing Jin could change about herself, it wouldn't be her face or height or breasts, like most girls. It would be her hands.

"You there."

She didn't see the feet sticking out from under the sheet at first. She gasped, thinking it was some sort of disembodied voice. It was a moment before she collected herself, letting out a half-laugh of realisation.

"Sorry," She went to raise the sheet. "I thought you were some sort of-" Jin's voice died in her throat.

Four Fire Nation soldiers stood before her.

With a scream, she let the sheet fall, backing away from the group on impulse. The sheet was torn down from the line, trampled underfoot as the soldiers approached her. She only made it several steps before a heavy glove reached her wrist. The limb pinned behind her, Jin was forced on her knees, head bowed.

"_No! No, what do you think you're doing!"_ The high shriek of her mother's voice sent a deep throbbing through Jin's chest. She looked up to see the greying woman halfway across the tiny backyard, staggering. Several pairs of eyes looked over both sides of the fence with terrified curiosity. Jin felt deaf. Her vision turned and tumbled in front of her. Her arms were fastened behind her. Something very sharp pressed at the base of her neck.

"Don't try it." Jin shook violently as she was dragged to her feet. Her screaming mother was simply pushed aside, as fragile and ineffective as a piece of paper. They went back through the house, Jin vaguely noticing the sudden, momentary plunge into shadow, and the stepping out into the light of the street. She couldn't see anything. Terror had seized her. She couldn't speak. The thought never came to her to fight back. There was a high ringing in her ears. Then without warning the ground suddenly rushed up to meet her, she was once again in shadows. There was a heavy clang behind her, the ground groaning and shuddering into life.

Her legs felt heavy and dead, and her arms were fastened behind her, but she managed to sit up, staring around her. It was very dark. All she could make out were several thin figures, slumped unmoving on the ground. It was the back of the some sort of cart. The ground pitched and heaved beneath her. She didn't know if the violent churning was the rolling of the cart or her own nausea. She opened her mouth to scream, but only a whisper passed her lips. Jin leaned against the shuddering wall, fighting the heaving sobs that burned in her dry throat. Overcome with a real urge to vomit, Jin moaned audibly as she realised why she had to be there. They didn't want her at all. They wanted _him._

_Please please please Spirits, let Zuko be okay._

* * *

Zuko abandoned the Upper Ring.

It was one of the hardest - no, _the_ hardest thing he had _ever_ had to do. He heard the wailing, howling screams of adults and babies, mingled with the thick smell of smoke and gunpowder. It burned his nose and left him nauseous. He watched, crouching on the roof of a house with the front door scattered in pieces on the ground. He didn't let himself to witness it for long. He could only stand a few minutes before turning away, negotiating a safe route to the familiar slums of the city. He tried to rationalize his actions, telling himself there was _no other way._ That without numbers, he would do nothing more than sacrifice himself. This wasn't a handful of rogue soldiers. This was the full force of the Army. He had to be pragmatic.

It broke his heart. Every cry, every clang of metal and thud of stone and wood that he heard, sent a fresh knife-wound of guilt surging through his chest. His head hung lower and lower, the further he made his hidden way down the abandoned streets. He felt like an utter failure. He had no swords, no bending. Nothing to fight with. It was the most unsettling, terrifying sensation. It was as though his hands had been cut off. He felt as weak and defenseless as a baby.

Did they deserve this? No. Sure, someone like Jiro would argue they had this coming, but Zuko knew the mindset of the majority of citizens in the Upper Ring. Most of them wouldn't have had any idea about anything. They would have just been trying to go about their daily business, blissfully unaware that anything was going on. Forcefully unaware.

Where would they go? He wasn't aware of a large-scale refugee situation like this. Most victims of the Fire Nation were small towns and villages, filled with peasants and dominated by one or two wealthy families, who would have normally fled to the safety of distant relatives. _These people are doomed._

It was enough to make him forget about the books in the worn satchel at his shoulder. There were five heavy books in total. He had only enough time to leaf through their contents, crouched on the floor. It took an hour of searching every concealed space in the tall narrow house, but Zuko finally found his prize. After deconstructing the drawing-room, the kitchen, bedrooms and study, Zuko finally walked into a tiny, sun-drenched alcove beneath a low sloping ceiling, containing only a simple knotted rug, two embroidered knee-cushions, and a honey-coloured Pai Sho table.

He knew in an instant he had found his prize. Zuko ran his fingers over the smooth surface, feeling for some sort of secret keyhole. He even grasped the White Lotus tile, pressing it on various points on the board, convinced of its significance. He realised halfway through that such a mechanism would be too obvious and heavy-handed for a man shrewd enough to hide his key under the edge of the desk. Zuko lay on his back under the table, examining the wood closely, but found nothing worth exploring.

It was only when the floorboard creaked under him as he sat back up that he slowly pushed back the heavy wooden table, panting with the effort. He kicked aside the thin rug, heart hammering. There was a definite groove across the boards. Zuko prised them open, staring at a heavy locked box, screwed and bolted into the wooden beams. The key fit perfectly. The five large books were of soft, well-worn leather. They were filled with hastily scrawled notes, charts, and diagrams, annotated in the margins and crossed out in large sections. Four of the books were completely full; the fifth still had half of its pages clean and unmarked. Zuko knew in a moment that this was exactly what he was looking for. After replacing the rug and Pai Sho table, he stuffed the books in a borrowed satchel, disappearing out the open window and down the Jasmine vine.

He tried to keep the sounds out of his head by thinking over the contents of the five heavy books, but it was futile. Nothing, it seemed, could wipe those sights and sounds from his mind.

He'd failed, and he knew it.

* * *

The sunlight cut through Jin like a knife.

She was blinded, dazzled, by the brilliant light, such a stark contrast to the heavy shadows of the cart. They used her momentary confusion to their advantage, seizing the girl by the hair and arms, pushing her forwards. She staggered in the light, unable to see, screwing her eyes up in the sun. Blind, she stumbled, and almost fell, crying out at the painful jerk on her hair. The light only lasted a few seconds, but it stretched out horribly for Jin, who still couldn't speak, or even scream or cry. She felt numb and eerie, as though she had received a heavy blow on the head. Maybe she had.

The dim, inside light was a welcome relief. Jin opened her eyes, breath seized in her throat. It was a wide reception room, looking more like some sort of office rather than a prison. She was confused. But they pushed her quickly past this, into a tiny side room lit only by a slit-window, leaking a sliver of pale light on the metal ground. The room had nothing but a wooden table and a single stool, opposite her. One of the soldiers left. The other kept a firm grip on the shackles at her wrist, his breath warm and sticky in her hair. Jin was shaking uncontrollably, still unable to speak. Shame at her disposition began to gather in the pit of her stomach.

"Wh-What-" Her voice was a broken whisper, unheeded. Jin fell silent, squeezing her eyes shut. She had no grand delusions of escape. The clever time to do that would have been when she was being taken here. Now she was in a fortress of steel, with no elements to help her. Her knees were weak and she pitched forward, wavering unsteadily. _Zuko where are you? What are they doing to you? _He hadn't said much about the nature of the Fire Nation's treatment of their prisoners, but his silence spoke volumes of their brutality. If they thought she had any information to give them, they would be willing to extract it through any means necessary. And Jin would crumble in seconds, she knew. She had a reasonably high pain threshold after years of hard work, but she could never hold up under torture.

The bonds fell from her wrists. Jin's heart rose in her throat, and she balled her hands into fists in a desperate attempt to muster some sort of defense. But the soldier only laughed, grabbing her hands, squeezing them tightly, forcing her arms outwards. He wore a full suit of armour. She was defenseless.

"Stay still and it'll be over in a moment." Jin let out a gasp as the hands circled her wrists, working slowly up her arms. He felt under her armpits, along her sides, and up her stomach. She fought down a fresh wave of nausea. _What was he going to do to her?_ He stood only a few inches behind her, hands grasping and poking as her face flushed deeper in humiliation. He grabbed something from inside the front of her dress - she kept her money in a secret inner pocket in her underclothes to prevent muggers, as well as a decoy purse, filled with scraps of tin and lead, at her waist.

As he groped inside her underwear, tearing the handful of cloth and money away and throwing it on the table, Jin lost her composure completely, breaking down in tears. Her skin felt icy cold, breaking out in goosebumps as the mans touch lingered on her skin. He ignored her tears, hands in her pockets, emptying the decoy purse, a spare hair ribbon, a small brass key, and a few sweets in a twist of paper beside her collection of money on the table. He felt inside her thighs and along the back of her calves, pushing her legs further apart with a sweep of his feet. Jin complied tearfully, shivering and cold. When he was finally satisfied that he'd stripped her clean of any possible weapons, he stood back. Jin sank to her knees, her trembling arms wrapped tightly around herself, head bowed.

"Clean?" This was a new voice at the door. Jin tried to stem the flow of shuddering sobs, pressing her lips together. The spasms wracked her chest.

"Just that." He gestured towards the cluster of objects on the table. The officer stepped into the room, staring at the crying girl with crossed arms.

"Agni Ren, what did you do? She's just here for an I.D." There was a dissatisfied click of his tongue. He saw the tear in the front of her clothes. Jin swallowed, the shudders ebbing to a quiver. "I've told you about keeping your hands off. Get a woman in next time if you can't control yourself." He shook his head in disgust. "Fourth floor. Shuu's office. He's been waiting for some time."

"Yes sir." Ren's voice was a low growl. He seized Jin roughly by the elbow, hauling the girl to her feet. She met the eyes of the officer, who still stood with his arms crossed. He looked Jin up and down, sizing her up. He wasn't impressed, or worried. Some factory girl, with a rather ordinary record for petty crime. Nothing special. "Won't happen again."

"Make sure it doesn't." Jee heaved an exasperated sigh, watching the pair leave the room.

* * *

The door was locked.

Zuko, who had expected to walk right into the house, started as the door failed to give way under his weight. He jiggled the latch, confused. He pressed his ear to the door, but heard nothing. No soft murmurings or clinking of plates. It sounded empty. That was strange. _Somebody_ was usually home.

He made his way back down the stairs silently, the bag heavy on his arm. He didn't like this. Zuko was desperate to talk to somebody, to tell them about what he had seen in the Upper Ring. To sit down and pore through the five heavy books that dragged on his uninjured shoulder.

_Who would know where they were?_

He rolled his pained shoulder, the sting giving him a flash of remembrance. Of course. Jin and her family had relatives all throughout the city. Surely one of them, at least, would know where she was.

He first tried the pub Renshu frequented one or twice a week. If he wasn't there, which he could very well have been on his day off, someone could give him an address. But Zuko couldn't see him. The barman offered the addresses of Shan's sisters; there were seven. The first home was empty, the second hadn't seen any of the family for several days - and that _Jin_ hadn't crossed the threshold in weeks, the greying Aunt added with a curl of the lip. The third house was the doctors' Zuko had seen earlier that morning. The front half of the house was an apothecary and doctors' surgery. Zuko shouldered the heavy bag, stepping into the now familiar environment of herbs, potions and tonics.

Behind the counter, a young woman read silently. It must have been one of Jin's cousins. She had the same nose, the same almond-shaped eyes, but her jaw was heavier. It was a moment before she noticed the boy had walked into the room.

"Oh!" She lifted her head from the thick book, smiling. "May I help you?"

"Yes." Zuko crossed the little shopfront. "I'm Lee. Jin's boyfriend. Are any of your parents around?" At Jin's name, something clouded her face. She tightened, looking down, before nodding silently.

"Through the back. You were here this morning, right?" Zuko nodded. "Into the doctor's office and keep going. Sorry, I have to watch the front."

"Thanks." He looked back at her with a frown, stepping past the curtain and into the brightly-lit surgery. What was _that_ about? She seemed hesitant, uneasy. Something tightened in Zuko's stomach he crossed the sunny room and into the back.

"Lee!" Zuko stopped still on the doorstep. Chang sat cross-legged on the floor, teasing Momo with a frayed length of ribbon. Hai was in a chair, chewing silently on a thumbnail. His eyes were very bright, hands clearly shaking. The small boy left the ribbon, running across the room and taking Zuko's hand. "Look, I've drawn a picture." He knelt beside several scraps of paper, covered in indecipherable squiggles. "Here's Momo. And here's a moose-lion. And I drew a flower for Mama."

"That's nice Chang." But Zuko wasn't paying attention. He looked at Hai, his pale, sick-looking face and quavering mouth. "Hey, why don't you draw me a picture? I like kangaroo-rabbits."

"Okay." Chang finally let go off his hand, laying out on the rug with fresh corner of thick paper. Momo, content he had 'slain' the ribbon, curled up beside Chang on the soft rug. "I'll colour it for you."

"Thanks." Hai stood up, jerking his head toward the door. Zuko followed him out the door into a little back alley. As soon as the door closed and Hai knew he was out of his brothers' earshot, he leaned against the wall with a low moan, eyes closed. His knees weakened, Zuko holding his arms to stop him from falling.

"Where are they?" Zuko kept his voice low. "The house is empty - No one knows where anyone is." Hai blinked, two glistening tears trailing down his dirty cheeks. "Where _are_ they?"

"Th-the prison." Zuko's heart stopped. "F-Fire Nation soldiers came and they took her away. M-Ma and Dad were home but they couldn't do anything. They're there n-now with Jiro and Meng." Hai swallowed, with an odd hiccup.

"Her?" Zuko closed his eyes, trying to stop the awful wheeling of the earth beneath his feet. "Not..."

"J-Jin." The boy stuttered, unable to shake the tears that wracked his skinny frame. "Aunty Shi came and took us here. W-we can't go anywhere and we don't know what's happening." Zuko's hands tightened on the thin bones. "I-I don't know where they are." The pounding of Zuko's heart was deafening, almost drowning out a low, dull roar as the blood rushed through his head. _No. no no no no no. _"Aunty Shi told me to just..." He stopped as Zuko turned rapidly away, loosening the hinges as he tore open the door.

"Stay here." He slumped to the ground, crumpled.

* * *

It was a nightmare for Jin. She was lead up stairs and along passages until her head spun. She was sure she was purposefully being led around, to be lost. She'd stopped crying as she ascended the second set of stairs, feeling dried-out. But the cold terror still remained in the bottom of her heart. She felt sure that this went beyond a simple I.D, whatever that was. Why would they go through all of this effort? The more she thought, the more convinced she became that this had something to do with Zuko. She couldn't shake the belief. Perhaps someone recognised him, and she had been seen with him, and they were going to press her with more information. Maybe they were going to hold her as some sort of bait. It wouldn't be the first time. The higher the pair traveled, the further that cold fear spread throughout her body. She couldn't shake that awful sensation of that man's gloves pawing over her. Her skin crawled in remembrance.

Finally, _finally_, they stopped outside a closed door. Ren knocked on it several times, standing back in preparation for the response.

"Enter." The voice was as thin and hollow as tin. Jin's throat became stuck, her arms lifeless at her sides. She had to be pushed through the door, one hand grasping her elbow, that awful heavy breathing returning to the back of her neck. She stumbled in the room, bathed in the light of a single lantern. There were no windows. The air was heavy and stale, sticking wetly in her lungs. The man behind the desk was growing bald, his helmet lying discarded on the desk. "Sit." He didn't raise his eyes from the paper. He pushed Jin down into the three-legged stool before the desk. "Outside Ren." His command was met with a low grumble, the heavy thump of books, and the slamming of a door. Jin looked at the papers scattered over the desk. They looked like files, stamped at the top with various marks and symbols. "PRIVATE" read one. "TO BE DESTROYED" headed another. She clenched her hands in an attempt to mask the trembling.

"What am I doing here?" After an hour of terrified silence, Jin finally found her voice. It was warbled and soft, barely above a whisper, but the officer across the desk heard her. He looked up from the papers, arching an eyebrow in surprise at the words. His tongue between his teeth, he slowly set down his bamboo reed.

"What do you think you're doing here?" He tented his fingers, elbows resting on the desk. Jin swallowed, breathing the wet air in shallow gasps. He was _testing_ her. He knew there was something else behind her. Something she was hiding.

"I don't know." She tried to make her voice strong and authoritative, a challenge to the greying officer. But it came out weak and defensive.

"Come now Jin." _He knew her name._ The skin on the back of her neck crawled, as she shrank inwards. "Surely you must have _some_ idea of why you're here. We don't pluck innocent civilians off the street." Jin sat on her hands.

"Th-They said something about an I.D." Her eyes seemed so large and wide. But Shuu was no fool. This was the terrified, defensive posture of someone convinced they were in trouble for much, much more.

"They were right." He threw a piece of paper down on the desk before her. Jin shuffled forward a little, reading the text. It was a poster. "We papered the city with these. I'm surprised you haven't seen them."

"I-I don't... go out much." Jin's stomach tumbled, heart hammering in her throat. It was encouraging people to turn benders in. Anybody who gave the solid name of an earthbender was paid a nice lump of silver for the information. _Oh no._

"They're very new. We put them up just yesterday, but already we've had dozens of names. Seems people are more than willing to rat out friends and neighbours when cash is involved." He slid the paper back across the desk, towards himself. Jin closed her eyes. "Your name and address came to us last night. I spent hours checking the government records." Oh, the records. It was phenomenal. Despite the city's vast size and massive vagrant population, the government had managed to compile information on _every single citizen_. Every single person had a nice little file that containing their birthday, parentage occupation, and when or if they were married. Some had more. A system on such a large scale was unheard of. But they had done it. "But it wasn't there." Their eyes met. Jin's throat was dry. "We found no trace of you, your parents, or brothers." _Brothers? Oh Spirits they must have found something._ "I started thinking that it was a hoax, a fake name. People have tried of course, for the reward sum." His eyes narrowed.

"But this morning, I visited the laundry my informant claimed you work at. I spoke to the floor manager as she ducked out for air and yes, you were very real. She pointed you out through the window." _That bitch._ Jin's lip stiffened. "It's not a good sign when someone fails to show up on government records, Jin."

"I haven't done anything." She argued, eyes stinging. She didn't understand what her record had to do with any of this. She knew something was wrong with it. When she applied for her laundry job four years ago, it took three months for the government office to find her file and update the information. It never took most people more than six weeks. Something in her stomach loosened. This was an old problem. It didn't have anything to do with Zuko. _Hopefully._

"I dug around." He carried on, ignoring her complaint. "And I found _this,"_ Shuu set down a stack of papers covered in brown paper. "In the Dai Li headquarters."

_Oh shit._ Jin watched the man slowly lift the brown covering. "Jin Gui" was printed clearly on the head of the first sheet. ON WATCH had been stamped across the top, with several other large markings. CONFIDENTIAL. UNDER SURVEILLANCE. HIGH PRIORITY. One on top of another. Her stomach was a tight knot. There was a physical description of her, a date of birth, and her parents' occupation. She couldn't see what the rest of the file held.

"You've been a very clever girl for a very long time." He turned the pages, slowly and idly, skimming the text. He had read it closely the night before. The pretence of reading was only to heighten Jin's distinct sense of unease. Shuu saw her shuffling in the corner of his eye. "No record of public bending. Only two broken curfews, no theft or arson or assault. Nothing that would warrant this level of surveillance." He gathered up the papers, replacing the brown paper cover. "So I had a look at your family."

"Why?" Jin breathed. "What do they have to do with it?" She started feeling sick again. There was a disheartening twist to the officers' mouth.

"Everything Jin. You _live_ with them." He set another file down on the desk, lifting the cover. Jin struggled to keep a straight face as she glimpsed the name. Meng. His file had several new labels. HIGH RISK. TOP PRIORITY. And across all of them, in bright red ink, washing out the faded stamps: JAILED. Her fingers curled around the edge of the stool. "I see your brother was imprisoned indefinitely for the murder of a Dai Li agent four years ago." He gave a little _tsk._ "The Dai Li kept watch on you for a reason."

"What does any of this have to do with _me?_" Jin was finally finding her voice. "I don't understand - just do whatever you have to do to identify me and let me go. You said yourself, I haven't done anything. Nobody in our family has done anything wrong."

"Aside from this instance of murder."

Jin fell silent. She watched him gather up the papers, her anxiety and fear mounting. He replaced his chin on his hands, watching her intently, scanning her face for a reaction. But she lowered her gaze, biting hard on her lower lip.

"It was a complicated mess, looking at your file. I was simply trying to unweave it." He drummed his fingers on the stack of wrapped papers. He flicked through them, extracting the file of her father, placing it open on the desk. Jin's eyes widened at the selection of stamps that marked the paper. Over all of them, the word IDENTIFIED had been scrawled in heavy black ink, by hand. "I see your father has already handed himself in to us. He figured it wouldn't be long before we opened his file and found a defective Dai Li agent. He knew we would sniff him out."

"He wasn't an agent." Jin spoke quietly. "He left before he completed training."

"He was as good as, from what the file reads. He walked out in his ceremony." A heavy frown marked Jin's forehead. _That isn't what I was told_. "There is a reason why I brought you here and showed you this." He leaned back a little in the chair. "By turning himself in, your father has shown compliance. He is willing to play by our rules. As a result, there is very little chance we will follow up on him, unless he does something to outwardly arouse suspicion." Jin tightened her grip on the stool. "We like compliance Jin. And from what your record tells me, you're not one to make waves."

"What do you want from me?"

"Obedience." He leaned forward, elbows on the desk. He almost looked friendly. "I have no interest in striking terror into the hearts of innocent citizens. I have one job: To separate those who have a risk of upsetting our new reign from those who wish nothing else than to go about their daily lives."

_You deluded monster._ Jin inwardly fumed. How condescending of him, to phrase it so! To speak of rebels as ungrateful criminals who existed only to spoil the bloodstained 'glory' of the Fire Nation. Her fear had calmed down - but now she was angry. She stared at him coldly. But he either ignored, or misunderstood, her gaze.

"We can have this over with very quickly. It's just a simple procedure, and you can go home. It's very likely you won't hear from us again. Isn't that what you want Jin? Just to go home?"

"Yes." Why was he speaking to her like she was a child, in that awful, wheedling tone? She wanted to strike out at him. But she kept her hands down, clenched around the edge of the stool. "I want to go home."

"Excellent." He leaned back, reaching for a little bell he kept on his desk. He rang it twice, and after a moment the door swung open. "Yun, take Jin downstairs. No need for handcuffs." The soldier nodded silently, a smirk playing on his lips. Jin was uneasy at his expression. "Good." He took the files, seven of them, in a stack, placing them in a box on the ground beside his desk. Jin watched them with a pounding heart. Everything was in there. Her history, her families' history. Every black mark, every instance of suspicion, every strike against their name. It was so close. She stood up unaided, not looking back as she was led out of the small office.

Every step she took, Jin grew sicker. She wanted, so desperately, to think that this was it, she was going to be led out the door. But there was something in the officer's eyes, something in the way Yun held her arm; loosely, but with a hand as firm and clenched as stone. She was pushed down a narrow, lopsided staircase. This wasn't the passage she walked up. She wasn't just going back out. She was going deeper inside the metal labrynth.

"No." She stopped short in her walk. Her heartbeat was a deep throb, pulsing in her ears. "No, please-"

"Come on." Yun grabbed her, one arm wrapped tightly about her middle, forcing her to walk down the stairs. Jin dragged her feet, shaking her head. There was something very, very wrong. She was slowly filling with the intense fear that she might not return from this monstrous prison. "Get_ going."_ She dug her heels in, fighting his grasp. "_Hey!"_ With a sharp knee to the groin, Jin winded the young soldier, shaking free of his grasp and clambering up the stairs. Gasping for air, paralysed in pain, Yun climbed after her on his hands and knees, staggering as he bent almost double. He managed to reach out and clasp Jin by the ankle, the girl screaming as she fell heavily on the metal stairs with a horrible _thud._ Pinning her on the ground with a knee, he forced her hands behind her back, reaching for his cuffs.

"_No!"_ Jin squirmed and struggled as Yun pulled her to her feet, dragging her unceremoniously down the stairs. "No - Stop - _Please_-"

"Shut. _Up."_ He pushed her, hard, against the wall, lip curling. He still limped, his middle still throbbing. Her hands crushed in the cuffs, pressed against the wall, Jin fell silent, eyes burning as she realised how trapped she was. Nobody was around to help her if she was attacked - and if anybody did come, who would care? She was just a prisoner here. Satisfied he had scared her enough, Yun grasped her by the elbow, pushing her down the narrow passage at the bottom of the stairs. Jin cried quietly, blinking rapidly as she was forced through a low door, down several dark passageways lit only sparsely by pale, flickering lanterns. It was growing very warm. She heard someone scream. Several people pushed past them - mostly soldiers, but two dragged someone behind them, unconscious, in green. There was another scream, high and pained. It sounded like a woman. Jin screwed up her eyes as she was pushed into a small room.

The warmth hit her in the face. She opened her eyes, breath stalling in her throat as she looked at the tiny room. It looked more like some sort of kitchen, with an open furnace, and a clumsy wooden table. At the table sat a woman. Plump, with greying hair, Jin didn't recognise her. Her arms were strapped to the table, a solitary soldier fiddling with the bonds. He grabbed her by the elbows, pulling her up. She was limp and unresponsive, looking in shock. Jin let out an involuntary moan, shrinking back as the woman staggered past her. Their eyes met for a moment, Jin's wide and tearful, hers emerald-green and dull, marked with heavy lines. Jin didn't see her wrist.

"Sit." Jin was pushed past the woman, the spell broken, forced into a low chair. Aside from Yun, there was a single other man, low and fat, poking at the burning wood with an iron poker. They'd learned several days ago not to use coal - the bandages were heavily wrapped around this man's shoulder. He set the poker down as Yun unbound Jin's shaking hands. "Careful. She's trouble." They grabbed one arm each, Jin silent and unmoving. The fight had, at the moment, died in her. Her right arm was strapped crookedly to the table, held fast. Her left was stretched out, strapped down at the hand, just below the wrist, and the elbow. Her bare arms began to flush in the heat of the close furnace.

"No." Jin breathed, starting to struggle as the fatter man pushed his hand into a heavy glove. "No _please!_" Yun's hands dug into her shoulders, struggling to hold her still. She couldn't move her arm an inch. Tears poured down her cheeks, in pure terror, as the branding iron was pulled from the furnace. She kicked out but the table was bolted down. They had made the system much more foolproof in the last two days, ever since the process became less 'voluntary'. Better to hold them down with machines and not risk more soldiers getting hurt.

Her scream tore through the tiny room, echoing beyond, into the low passageway. She had been burned before - it was inevitable in the laundry, and her hands had several scars from boiling water and heated irons - but not like _this._ The iron was pressed to her skin for several seconds before being lifted away. There was no sympathy in the hands that clenched her shoulders as she sat frozen, immobile from the shock and pain. She fought a wave of nausea, pushing at her throat. Her mouth was filled with the bitter taste of bile. Jin bent her head, eyes closed as she sobbed helplessly, her right arm flaring with agony.

_Why did they do this?_

* * *

Renshu tried very, very hard not to be afraid.

Ever since that moment of rebellion, that outburst that had shaped his fate and branded him as a defector and a traitor, Renshu had done everything he could to remain a faceless, nameless shadow. He became a law-abiding citizen, without drawing too much attention to himself. He paid his fees and taxes and licences on time. He was reasonably capable at a steady trade. He had a wife from a respectable (if unfortunately destitute) family. He didn't drink away or gamble his hard-earned money, but was always willing to lend to a friend. He kept the company of upstanding citizens neither above or below his hard-fought station. Renshu voted for officials and councillors backed obviously by the Dai Li. He treated his children well, and his neigbours remarked that Shan was one of the few wives on the street that never had a bruise to hide.

Which was why it was so unfortunate, people said, that his children turned out the way they did. Renshu was no fool. He knew the names his three eldest had been called. Loose. Criminal. Rebellious. Foolhardy. Stupid. Trouble. They had all been called Trouble at some point or another, with dark looks exchanged behind tight lips. _Such a shame, from such a fine man and woman._

It wasn't bad parenting and it wasn't _just one of those things._ Shan had spoken very plainly on the matter, dozens of times. They were just like _him._ They had a painful awareness of the world around them, and rather than allowing themselves to be swept along in the current, they fought back against it, as though their actions could somehow shift the tides. They had his blood, his spirit. She spoke of it with an odd sort of pride, even though they caused her so much trouble. Renshu thought of it more as a curse. They were cursed with his blood and his name, it had given them the fire of rebellion, and short of beating it out, there was nothing he could do. He'd only raised his hand to any of them once, when the twins were eleven. They had skipped out on their chores to watch an execution. By the time he had found them, the poor man was dead, and Jin was sobbing uncontrollably. Jiro was white-faced and trembling. It was when he said the man was a hero and didn't deserve to die that Renshu lost control, giving Jiro a nasty red mark that lingered on his right cheek for two days. But if Renshu was too soft then, he had left it too long now. They were bigger and stronger. The boys, at least, would be able to fight back.

But they still needed him.

The air was heavy and stale, with that familiar, metallic taste on his tonge as he breathed in. He was not afradi, he tried to tell himself. He was not afraid. This was no different to those mornings when he had to bail the children out of the Dai Li's cells after a particularly wild night. He tried to remember how he felt, then. It wasn't fear. It was annoyance and exasperation. He wasn't afraid of the Dai Li. He knew that the so-called 'crimes' that kept his teenaged children behind bars could easily be brushed aside with enough money. Everything had a price.

Almost everything.

"Yes?" The tired, young face stared down at him. Renshu kept his shoulders square and head erect. He knew how to play this. As long as he stood his ground, refused to back down, and flashed a handful of money at the right moment, he would find her easily. These people were all the same, no matter what colour they wore.

"I'm here to see someone. My daughter." His voice was cool and clear, without a hint of a quaver. "She was taken from our home this afternoon. We were not told of any charges and there was no warning. I demand to either know why she was arrested, or have her let go." Behind the desk, red-rimmed eyes widened. The young clerk didn't know how to deal with his. This man wasn't scared - but he wasn't angry either. He hadn't dealt with anybody as concise and level-headed. "Her name is Jin."

"I-I can't just release that information." Renshu's lip twitched at the voice. He had the little worm. "There's protocol, It's not a matter of-"

"Don't bullshit me." He kept his voice low, lest anybody with a spine heard him. "I know you have records. I know you can easily enquire about her with the patrol officer. You don't simply take people in without at least learning their name." Maybe he was being hopeful. Maybe the Fire Nation didn't have the same level of overbearing beauracracy the Dai Li had.

"Even if I did-"

"It would be entirely ordinary for a clerk to find the location of a prisoner. Spirits, what else do you do all day?" His jaw was tight. "My sixteen-year-old daughter was taken from our home without charge." He re-emphasized this. "I have every right to know what has happened to her."

"I couldn't-"

"I'm not asking for her release." That was for later. "I'm not asking you to break any rules. All I want is some information about my only daughter." Was it worth it, to play at this boy's emotions? It seemed to be working. Renshu's hands clenched around the money in his pocket. He may not even need it, in the end. The exhausted-looking clerk looked down at his page, and back up at Renshu, before raising his eyes to the ceiling in a long, heavy sigh. That was the problems with the young ones. They were far too soft. Renshu's heart, nevertheless, thudded in his throat with the fear that it may not work.

"_Dammit._" The clerk swore under his breath in resignation. Renshu's heart leapt. The boy reached for a piece of paper, rubbing at his temples. "What was her name again?"

"Jin Gui." This time, Renshu couldn't get the tremor out of his voice was he gave the full name. The clerk's eyes flicked up to him, the pen loose in his hand.

"_Really?"_ His brow creased. _Gui._ Ghost. He'd only ever heard it as an insult. He never thought it could be somebody's family name_. _Renshu nodded wordlessly at the familiar incredulous look. "I don't know the character for the last name." He pushed the paper across the desk. "Write it down for me." Not many did. Renshu's fingers were trembling as he accepted the sharpened stick of bamboo. His own hand was smooth and elegant next to the wonky scratch of the clerk. "Gui." The clerk breathed, shaking his head. Finding her would be _easy _with a name like that. He blew on the scrap of paper, his warm breath hardening the black ink in a heartbeat. "Stay here." He pushed the chair back with a horrible _screech_, leaving Renshu to stand before an empty desk with burning eyes.

_Spirits_. He breathed a silent prayer of thanks, releasing the tight grasp he had on the money around his pocket.

* * *

Zuko stood in the entranceway to the courtyard for a very long time. He had marched straight there with the intention to break the door down. He wasn't afraid of the huge fortress. The iron would bend and the stone crack under his bare hands. When Zuko was this angry, nothing could stop him. He never backed down from anything, no matter how hopeless it seemed. But when Zuko finally made it to the huge iron prison, there was one sight that made him pull up short in his walk, clenched fists loosening at his sides.

Shan sat by the open door with her shoulders hunched over, head bowed. She wrapped her arms about herself, as though she was struggling to hold her breaking body together. On either side of her, her eldest sons sat with their hands on her shoulders, leaning into whisper words of comfort. Words that were ignored. Her face was pinched and grey, marked with heavy lines and a tiny, wrinkled mouth. She wasn't crying - she was beyond tears. Shan was withered and hollow, looking as though she was about to collapse inward, completely. Zuko couldn't swallow the burning ember in his throat.

He took a single step towards them, before his knees buckled, and he pitched forward. He had gone from being determined and unshakeable to as flimsy and ineffective as paper. He threw a hand to the ground to stop himself, staggering. They didn't see him. They weren't looking about themselves. The white-hot rage that had burned in his chest exploded in a wave of guilt, rolling down his back, cramping his stomach and leaving his hands and feet cold.

_What have you done to them._

Zuko's stomach lurched with the very real sensation that he was about to be sick. He bent over, breathing heavily in a futile attempt to attack the nausea that fought inside him. How could this have such an effect on him? His head spun and his mouth tasted bitter.

_You asshole. You know why.  
_

Zuko swallowed heavily, trying to push the sensation back down. He straightened himself, trying to calm himself. Thankfully, nobody paid attention to him. They were all wrapped up in their own private grief. He went to take another step, but his feet seemed cemented to the stone. He couldn't move them. Zuko was stiff and unmoving. _What is wrong with me._

Then he saw her. Emerging from the open mouth of the iron fortress, she wobbled with her father's arm wrapped around her shoulders. Zuko let out a physical cry of relief, knees threatening to buckle again. She looked like she was crying. Was something wrong with her left arm? She held the limb close to herself, cradling it with the right. Zuko watched with wet cheeks as Jin sank to her knees beside the slumped form of her mother. For a moment, there was no reaction. Then the woman bent her head into the crook of Jin's neck, clinging to her. Her shoulders heaved with painful, obvious sobs.

_You coward._ He stepped backwards with the sick realisation that he couldn't go near them. He was terrified of what they would do, what they would say. The urge to vomit rose in his throat. She was so _close_, he felt he could reach out and touch her. He ached to. But his feet were still encased in stone and he couldn't take a single step towards them. He couldn't face them and their grief, not while thinking that he was the cause of it. Zuko but down very hard on his lip, feeling the muscle tremble between his teeth. He took a step _back_, away from the tiny group that couldn't see him. The pain in his chest was terrible - something had broken within him entirely. _What did they do to you?_ He scoured what he could of her, looking for any physical signs of damage. Shan had scrabbled at Jin's arm, pushing back the long sleeve. She clapped a hand over her mouth at the sight, pulling Jin close and sobbing, her fingers tangled in the girls knotted hair. Zuko fought back another wave of nausea as his stomach lurched in horror. _What did they do to you?_

But he couldn't move towards them. He felt repelled, by an invisible force. His own fear, of them. Of what they would say. He could never _dream_ to burst in on their private circle of grief. Zuko knew they would all hate him for this. For hurting her - _again._ They were rising to their feet, getting ready to leave. They weren't going to stay under the shadow of the prison any longer than needed. Both of the boys had to haul Shan to her feet, and Jin leaned heavily on her father. Zuko let out a muffled cry behind his bit lip. He couldn't bear to be seen by them. Even though his heart burned to approach her, to hold her and whisper in her ear and say _thank Agni she was all right_, he couldn't face the others. He anticipated the hate and grief and overwhelming anger, and was terrified by it. So for the second time, Zuko did something that made his stomach wither with shame. He took another step back, and another. And he backed out of the courtyard without another word, turning away from the pitiful sight before him.

And with blurry eyes, Zuko stepped into the busy street, vanishing in the shifting puzzle of green. Like a ghost.

But not _entirely_ unseen.

Jin recognised that untidy mop of black hair in a heartbeat, even from across the courtyard. Her chest constricted, and she opened her mouth to call Zuko over, to tell him to come here and that it was all right, but he had turned away from all of them, and although Jin struggled free of her father ran across the courtyard, he had vanished long before she stood at the open gates. She ignored, for the first time, the horrible pain in her arm, eyes fixated on the spot where she'd last seen him. _You idiot._ She screwed up her eyes, fingers brushing the mark on the inside of her wrist, unable to ignore the sick fear that he had separated himself from her.

Zuko tried so hard to keep his composure as he made his way down the street, feeling painfully self-aware. He was convinced that everybody on the street could see his red-rimmed eyes and shaking hands. He kept his gaze fixed to his shoes, the erratic step marching in time with his pounding heart. It beat in a drum, sounding out curses and insults. _You fool you fool you fool._

More than ever before, Zuko wished he was somebody else.

Everything, it seemed, stemmed from his name. _Lee_ hadn't done anything wrong. It was Prince Zuko, who had caused this grief and pain. He was the one to blame for this. But nothing could be done. Zuko was helpless. Having a new name couldn't change a thing, not when the scar made his face so obvious. That was what he needed. A new face. He let out a half-laugh at the ridiculous idea. That was one thing he could never, ever change. Zuko stopped in his walk, looking up at the sky. It was a very hot day - the sky didn't even look blue. It was heavy and grey. The heat pressed down on him. As he lowered his eyes, he looked around at the dim little shop front, the children that crouched in the shadows, hiding from the oppressive heat. He continued in his walk, until a bright flash of colour at the corner of his eye made him stop, turn about. His mouth fell open. A mask store. There were a dozen of them hanging on hooks outside the shop front, carefully painted to resemble animals, spirits, people. _Of __course_. Zuko approached the shop front, scanning the colourful disguises. Zuko reached out and touched one of them, painted in brilliant red and gold to resemble the sun.

_A new face._

Zuko's lips twitched in a rare smile.

* * *

Rah.

Next one will be out very soon. Promise.


End file.
